


I Don't Knock - I Kick the Door Down

by rareID



Series: Knock Knock [3]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heartache, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Pain, Violence, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rareID/pseuds/rareID
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based in the parallel alternate time-line of <i>When the Knocking Starts it Never Stops</i>, where Elsa never went with Anna to Iloa and the consequences that befall upon them both as a result. Dark Elsa and Dark(ish) Anna. (Elsanna - not related)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> You're going to be seriously confused if you didn't read Part 1 and Part 2 of this series, so I highly suggest that you go do that now (if you haven't already).
> 
>  
> 
>  **How the events differ from the main story line:** Elsa never went with Anna to Iloa, instead opting to stay in Arendelle and force herself to hold together even with the temporary loss of Anna. Not three weeks after Anna's departure, she receives word that the negotiations in Iloa went to shit and Anna was forced into marriage with the Prynian half-noble, Commodore Arwyn. She flew into a rage, plummeting Arendelle into a second Great Freeze, and was barely stopped from sailing to Pryne and slaughtering the kingdom by Gerta's logical insistence. Taking her advice--to not damn Arendelle into hostile relations for her or future generations and get Anna back to Arendelle through political means--Elsa unfroze the kingdom, but only to a point. With her anger bubbling and the love of her life ripped away from her, Arendelle is forced into a half-summer half-winter state, with an even colder spring and autumn, and an unfathomable winter.
> 
> Meanwhile, the events in Iloa go exactly as they did in _When the Knocking Starts it Never Stops_ (except without Elsa punching Anna on the boat, or any of their interactions in general), but what changes is that, without Elsa, the king dies and everything falls into chaos. Anna declares that she's going to marry Arwyn, and explains that that means that if Iloa were to declare war on Pryne, Arendelle would be their sworn enemy, and that if Pryne were to attack Iloa, Arendelle would be _their_ sworn enemy.
> 
> Almost three weeks later—when Anna is safely in Pryne and preparing wedding arrangements—she receives news of the Arendelle Great Freeze, along with a list of even stricter rules and regulations concerning all kingdoms that want to visit or do business with Arendelle. Anna later finds out that the news also came with a personal letter to the Prynian king, informing him that if Anna is ever injured or put in direct or indirect danger of any form—including (but not limited to) a declaration of war on _anyone_ else—she would personally raze their kingdom to the ground. Anna's heart breaks inside knowing how much this is affecting her one and only true love, but she knows she can't do anything without causing a political scandal and getting the cannons of war aimed at Arendelle, and possibly getting herself killed in the process. Unwilling to do that to Elsa, Anna does her duty and marries Arwyn. Elsa doesn't attend.
> 
> This piece takes place one year after the events of WTKSiNS.

**Arendelle**

The citizens part like wildfire as Elsa enters the city astride her icy mare, her eyes fixated in a permanent glare and her mouth drawn in a thin, tense line. As much as Elsa’s former self pounds for her attention at the back of her mind, reprimanding her for scaring her people to the point of fearful submission, the queen can’t find it within herself to follow the advice. She knows the population deserves better, but she also knows what little fractured sanity she has left will crumble if she lets her emotions back in.

Despite the odds, though, she’s been a fair enough ruler even with her frigid, foreboding air and quick temper. On some disturbing notion, it has actually made her more efficient and precise when dealing with the kingdom’s issues; not any less affectionate, but noticeably distant.

One of the many downfalls, however, is Elsa’s inability to sleep without dreaming.

Without Anna to soothe her worries, Elsa’s anxiety and post traumatic stress have re-inflamed with crushing intensity. It had almost turned the queen into a complete basket case before she took drastic measures and implemented her war-time sleeping strategies she used during Iloa-Arendelle hostilities: fighting till she drops and working herself into exhaustion.

She put in place a regular schedule, in which she works for ten straight days—occasionally passing out on the desk in her study—before retreating to the north mountain for three days. These three days are full of unyielding battles with her snow creatures until she eventually passes out, only to repeat the process when she wakes back up in a continuous loop until she eventually has to return to the kingdom. It’s a tiresome schedule, one she knows is running her ragged, but the alternative—letting herself be herself again without Anna—is too painful to consider.

Hell, it hurts so much she had to stop her regular ‘get Anna back’ strategy talks with Gerta.

Poor Gerta.

Elsa can’t suppress her emotions well enough to stop the pang of guilt that springs up at the thought of the plump woman.

Gerta had been planning on retiring until they received the news that Anna wasn’t coming back, and Elsa went berserk. Gerta had been the only one able to calm the frothing, raging queen, and—upon seeing her calming influence—the council beseeched her to stay. She agreed under the terms that she could still retire from her position, and the council readily agreed – promptly naming her the queen’s personal adviser, giving her enough stasis to take up home in the castle to look after her arduous charge.

It’s a good thing Gerta had no intention of tackling the problem of the monarch on her own.

Not only did she subtly train the staff to weather Elsa’s ever fluctuating mood, she also teamed up with Kristoff and Kai to help her keep the queen’s fiery of a temper in check. Despite all odds, her methods actually worked, and even the council members came scrambling to the woman for advice. Elsa’s assuming they heeded it, because council has become much more bearable.

With peace of mind in the castle—as much of it as she can get, at any rate—Elsa finds herself never willing to leave the sturdy walls unless she’s going for her regular north mountain isolation. It’s not like the city would welcome her with open arms like they used to, anyway.

Word of Elsa’s ire spread through the population like wildfire, and they all quickly reverted back to the polite but empty distance they had from before her coronation. In a way Elsa’s thankful for it, but a more persistent part of her mourns the absence of the optimistic cheer that once rang in the streets at her presence.

It was Anna who made Arendelle happy. It was Anna the population loved. It was Anna who transformed Elsa into someone worthy of the population’s adoration.

Without Anna, Elsa is nothing.

Without Anna’s warmth to balance Elsa’s chill, Arendelle suffers the queen’s cold, uncontrollable wrath.

Without Anna, nothing is worth living anymore.

 _Conceal. Don’t feel._ Elsa chides herself as she notices tears beginning to prick her eyes. No matter what, she has to stay strong and protect Arendelle.

It’s what Anna would have wanted.

Trotting through the castle gates and up to the main doors on her sure, sturdy mare, Elsa lets out a slow, controlled breath.

Ten more days. She only has to last ten more days.

Jumping off her horse, she silently leaves the icy mare to its own devices as she strides purposefully towards the front doors with her head held high, her shoulders back and her back straight. The royal guards on either side of the lofty doors practically scramble to open them for their majesty, but—somehow—they’re still able to retain their poise. Considering her callous reputation as of late, it’s certainly a feat to be commended.

If only they knew how much she was torturing herself in a desperate attempt to not break down. Elsa smiles forlornly at the thought. Perhaps it would be better if she did.

The winter this year—a testing season even without influence—was so bad that the population had to either seek refuge in the castle or in the war catacombs Elsa created under the city for the Iloa-Arendelle war. In order to quell her dreadful unconscious manipulation of the weather, Elsa had to fight herself into a bloody stupor up on the north mountain. She had to do this so often that she succumbed to doing business with her council through the use of carrier falcons, and only came down from her seclusion when absolutely necessary. She had to have herself mostly cloaked during every trip as to not cause alarm to her bruised and bloody frame. Elsa didn’t mind, though – it was a small price to pay for keeping her people safe.

Besides, the pain helped her suppress emotions and memories better left buried.

“Kai.” Elsa clips, nodding sharply as he bows. He silently hands her a clean pair of navy blue with baby blue trimmed gloves. Elsa grunts in response and takes hers—soaked in sweat and blood—off and grabs the new pair, quickly handing the used pair over to the chamberlain. She swiftly pulls on the new pair before walking briskly in the direction of the council room, waving for Kai to follow.

This is another old habit she’s taken to – wearing gloves all the time. She hasn’t been this dependant on them since before her coronation four years ago, and—although it’s for the best—it leaves an unsettling feeling in her stomach when she thinks about it.

“Update.” Elsa grunts, dragging herself from her own thoughts.

“Since your leave there have been several non-pressing requests put forth by the populace; the council raised concern over Arendelle’s strict foreign policies, saying they boarder on the line of hostile; the head of defense spoke up about our drastic defense increase over the past year, hesitantly suggesting you might be over doing it; Corona has invited you to their annual summer ball; the Southern Isles sends their thanks for your most recent temporary golem aid that helped repair the damage wrought by a storm; and Pryne has—”

Elsa stops in her tracks and stands stock still, her teeth clenching painfully. Kai respectably stops talking to give time for the monarch to catch her bearings, and keep her unruly temper in check.

“What about Pryne?” Elsa grinds, her jaw muscles jumping and her eyes narrowing dangerously at nothing as she spits out the kingdom’s name. The temperature drops several degrees. Kai clears his throat gently.

“Pryne has invited you to their famed gladiator tournament that they host every four years.” Kai says, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

Pryne is a rough subject on the best of days, but any letter sent that encourages a reply from the monarch is often seen as them trying to rub salt on her still-open wounds. For the most part, however, she’s typically not wrong.

“Slimy bastards.” Elsa spits, her hands balling into fists and her shoulders trembling in rage. The temperature plummets. Kai, once again, clears his throat – his signature gentle reminder for the queen to keep herself in check.

“The invitation was personally addressed to you by princess consort Anna, your majesty.” He says. That gives Elsa pause. On one hand the queen is thrilled, on the other revolted at Kai’s use of ‘princess consort’ and, somewhere in the middle, she wants to break down and weep.

But that’s nothing new.

Elsa nods slowly, thoughtfully. The temperature slowly starts to regulate itself.

“What are the details on this tournament?” The queen asks, her voice carefully measured. Kai allows himself a small, pleased smile.

“Gerta wants to go over the details with you later on, so you’ll be getting plenty of information then.”

Elsa gives the chamberlain a curious quirked eyebrow, but the man remains tight-lipped aside his ever growing smile.

“Something Gerta has taken a personal interest in, eh?” Elsa murmurs to herself, pursing her lips in thought. “Must be something of substantial worth.” She hums, before a frown tugs on her lips. She has half the mind to accuse the woman of simply wanting to coax the monarch into seeing Anna again, but the queen knows that Gerta knows better than that – if Elsa were to see Anna without a plan to get her back to Arendelle, she’d freeze Pryne solid in a heartbeat. Talk about a political uproar – slaughtering a whole kingdom just to get your married once-upon-a-time fiancée back.

Anna would never be able to look at her the same, either.

So that means that Gerta—that brilliant tactician—must be brewing up a plan. The thought almost makes Elsa smile. Almost. Hope is the last thing Elsa needs.

Hope can destroy her.

Stifling any joy she might of had, Elsa schools her features and nods sharply.

“I would like to read over this invitation before I am bombarded with a plan in which I have no context. Also, I would like you to fetch me all information we have regarding this tournament.” Elsa says, her voice crisp. Kai nods sharply, all traces of emotion disappearing from his features.

“I have already taken the liberty of leaving the tournament’s schedule of events and the rules and regulations underneath the invitation on the desk in your study.” He informs. Elsa nods and takes a moment to mull over her obligations in her head. With a soft hum, she says:

“Tell the council that the meeting has been moved to this afternoon. Where’s Gerta?”

“In her personal study, your majesty.”

“Good. Inform her that I will seek her out there immediately after I read over the information you’ve supplied me.” Elsa orders. She doesn’t even wait for a response as she turns heel and—with the harshness of her step—practically marches up the stairs and pushes into her study, shutting the door with a blast of winter wind behind her.

Settling herself into her chair, she grabs the gold and silver invitation, authorized by the Pryian royal seal pressed into golden wax. The familiar sight makes her want to puke, but she forges on and forces herself to read the blasted thing.

Elsa’s heart melts when she realises the entire thing is written by Anna’s hand.

Elsa reverently traces her gloved fingers over the elegant cursive. She traces every letter, every loop, every dotted ‘i’ and every crossed T until she reaches—

Elsa snaps her hand away as if she’s been burnt.

At the bottom of the page, Anna signed her name ‘Anna Prathian’ instead of ‘Anna Arendale’.

 _Those stupid fucking bastards made her change her goddamn name as if they were branding her like cattle._ Elsa seethes, the temperature around her falling far below freezing. Frost starts creeping across the floor, up the walls and over the window. Elsa grits her teeth, trying to convince herself that she’s being unreasonable – that Anna would never have been allowed to keep her last name, but part of her just can’t allow it.

If Anna were hers, she never would have had to change her name.

Tears burning in her eyes, Elsa growls in frustration and grits her teeth even harder, forcing herself to actually read the wretched invitation.

For the most part it’s just formal mumbo-jumbo Anna was no doubt required to write, but at the bottom, in a little sentence all by itself, it reads; ‘I know you’re not happy with Pryne right now, but I think it’ll do everyone a lot of good if you show up. If nothing else, please come to see me. I miss you.’ Elsa stares at that little section and reads it over and over again until it practically scorches itself into her pupils. Elsa sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Hard.

 _Like I could ever say no to you._ Her regretful internal voice sighs, with a grieving edge that quickly urges Elsa to push the voice aside and move onto reading the two documents Kai left underneath the invitation.

It isn’t long until Elsa figures out exactly what her former maid is thinking.

“Either you’re bloody mad thinking I can pull this off, or you’re a fucking genius.” Elsa mutters, scanning over the parchment one last time.

In short, all she has to do is sign up as a secret competitor and win every bout fair and square and she is granted anything she desires.

The problem, however, lies in two things. The first is that she’d have to cover her ass so no one would think it strange that she is absent whenever the mystery knight is fighting, and the second is that she’ll have to win the matches without the use of magic. While Elsa has insane skills, she recalls her words to Anna right before the girl left for Iloa.

_I’m saying that I had to remain strong as a solo for absurdly long amounts of time and my muscles reflect that, but just because I can still pack a punch after twelve hours of constant bombardment, it doesn’t mean I can do it with any finesse. I’ve been trained in the art of downing people with the least amount of energy within the mass of many, not so much in prolonged engagements with skilled fighters. Without the aid of magic, I’m afraid I’d lose those types of fights._

Now, while pounding on golems every ten days might of improved her skill, she doubts it is anywhere near the perfection she’ll need in order to pull this off against warriors who no doubt trained specifically for this for who knows how many years.

 _I’m also going to have to train in the art of downing instead of immediately going for the kill._ Elsa muses, reading over the conditions of what is required to win the bouts. It’s the standard, ‘knockout’, ‘yield’ and ‘death’, but the fine print below it catches her eye, and makes her scowl.

‘Pryne reserves the right to determine whether or not the winning gladiator kills the losing gladiator if the winner triumphs by a knockout or a yield.’

Elsa throws the parchment across the room.

Of course she knows that Pryne isn’t stupid enough to call for the death of a losing gladiator unless it is completely justified by everyone in attendance, but the fact that they dangle your life over your head even after battle’s complete makes Elsa sick to her stomach.

So not only will she have her missing person at the games and her fighting skill to contend with, but she might have to deal with murdering people, too? She hasn’t killed since the war and she doubts her fragile sanity can handle anymore than the strain already pressed upon it, but one fleeting thought of holding Anna in her arms again stops that train of thought cold.

Is it worth going to the point of no return in order to get Anna back?

She grits her teeth as her internal voice starts screaming at her, trying to kick some sense into her head. Instead of paying attention to the desperate cries, however, Elsa summons a sword of ice and tests the weight in her hand. She tries to imagine once again using those sharp edges to draw blood once more. The thought makes her pale and sick to the stomach.

But what other choice does she have?

Her voice of old starts bellowing at her, begging her to stop before it’s too late; begging her to think of the kingdom she’s sworn to protect; begging her to stop her self-decrementing behavior; begging her to for _once_ think about her own plummeting well-being instead of aiding its downfall.

Begging her to stop killing herself.

Elsa pushes from her desk and exits the room.

She stopped listening to that voice a long time ago.

 

**Pryne**

Anna stands on the balcony attached to her room, her elbows resting on the elaborate marble railing as she stares out into the ocean.

The world is so much different, here.

The first thing Anna noticed upon her first arrival—other than the heat—was the sun sparkling over all the vibrate colours of the city. It was the exact opposite of the cool blues that mostly decorated Arendelle, and it was with a jolt that Anna realized that the only reminisce of home she’ll ever have is what she brought with her. Now, while over four hundred golems—over three hundred of which Pryne still don’t know exist—an ice ‘warship’—but, again, Pryne doesn’t know about those features—Leo, her protector tigers and personal effects are nice, they’re not home.

Of course Anna got used to living here—not that she really had that much of a choice—but she still finds herself missing the gentle kingdom that holds traces of winter all year round, and the things she left behind.

Like Elsa.

The name grips Anna’s heart with a cold, icy hand and causes the blood to drain from her face.

The stories coming out of Arendelle—from the nobles and merchants who’re still allowed to travel there—are things that one might concoct after reading one too many horror novels. Most were—and still are—so bad that Anna would never have believed them if they weren’t confirmed by the Royal Grace’s icy helmsmen, Moira.

During one of Anna’s regular trips to her ship she had brought up some of the things that she’d been hearing, wholly expecting the sarcastic, charming snow golem to bark an incredulous laugh and wave it off as foolishness. It was to her despair, then, that she was met with stony silence and Moira’s jaw clenching so tightly that Anna half expected her ice to fracture.

“I can feel her.” Moira had said, after a moment of the crushing silence. “She’s . . . she’s not in an ideal place, Anna. I’m sorry to say it, but I have no doubt that these things you’ve been hearing are true.”

For a week after that Anna barely moved from her room, and only left when she was required for meals. Arwyn—bless her soul—had fretted over the younger girl every spare moment she had away from her duties. It was endearing, but it wasn’t enough to quell the sick twisting in Anna’s abdomen that told her that it was all her fault.

If she had been better, smarter, would things have turned out differently?

If Elsa had gone instead of her, would she have secured peace?

If Anna had been worthy the position Elsa trusted her with, would she had been stuck in a marriage with a woman she barely knew?

The thoughts make her sick enough to want to retch.

A frown twisting on her features, Anna reaches down and subconsciously rubs the front of her left thigh, the phantom pain of the dagger that once buried itself into her thigh flaring to life. Would she have gotten this wound if she hadn’t been so careless with knowledge? Part of her wishes that she could put all the blame on Arwyn, but the half-royal commodore had only been doing her job – it was Anna’s fault that she released the information of her demise. Even after Arwyn admitted to knowing more about what fleet admiral Thayne was going to do then she originally let on, Anna couldn’t ultimately hold her at fault.

But by the Gods, she tried.

—Flashback—

Anna’s eyes, bloodshot from rage, lock on her to-be-wife’s eyes. Arwyn, guilt flickering over her face, holds up her hands – silently begging Anna to calm down and listen.

“I was telling the truth when I said that I didn’t know what Thayne was planning, but—knowing how he thinks and how Pryne operates—I had a pretty good idea about what sort of things he could have done. The public spectacle he ultimately settled with wasn’t what I thought he might have done, but it saved your ass. If he had decided to lore you away from people, you could have been in a hell of a lot more trouble.” Arwyn says, trying to make her voice as soothing as possible in an attempt to cushion the impact of her words.

“So you knew that something worse could have happened to me?” Anna snarls, taking a step towards the taller woman. “You suspected that I could have been killed, or even _tortured_ yet you didn’t once voice some sort of opinion to Thayne to discourage violent action?” Arwyn’s face twists with regret.

“I couldn’t let him suspect anything – if I had tried butt into his planning—something I never do, and am not allowed to do unless asked—he would have known that my loyalties were starting to shift. If that had happened,”—the officer swallows thickly—“well, you know what Pryne does to traitors.”

Despite the older woman’s logic, Anna grabs the scruff of Arwyn’s tunic and slams the officer as hard as she can into the nearest wall, practically growling in the half-royal’s face.

“If you meant what you said about not wanting me to get hurt, then you would have told me. You would have fucking told me!” Anna bellows, spittle flying from her mouth. “You wouldn’t have stood around and did _nothing_ while your commander plotted against me, knowing goddamn well that _I could have been killed!_ ”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Arwyn shouts, her teeth bared. “If I had told you anything, or discretely tried to tip you off, your behaviour pattern would have changed and Thayne would have noticed it, and if he drew the origin back to me I would be dead, tortured or rotting in a fucking dungeon! God _damn_ it, Anna – the only reason I wasn’t tried and court-marshalled for interfering with Pryne’s military conquest by ultimately helping you with the peace treaty is because you decided to marry me!”

“How do I know that that wasn’t another part of some greater scheme to get an Arendale to marry into the Prathian line, huh?” Anna hisses, her lips twisting into an ugly scowl. “As Thayne had so eloquently put it: ‘You know as well as I that you wouldn’t have even given this treaty a second glance, let alone personal attention, unless you liked the negotiator enough to want to shove your fingers inside of her’. So please give me _one reason_ why I should trust _anything_ you say.” Anna snarls, looking very similar to a rabid beast. Arwyn takes in Anna’s livid domineer for a long couple of seconds before letting out a soft, resigned sigh; melting all of Arwyn’s anger and frustration, only to be replaced by a sad, defeated smile.

“I don’t have one.” She whispers, a soft flicker of regret dancing in her eyes.

The commodore’s unforeseen submission throws Anna for a loop, and slowly the princess’s ire is replaced by confusion and her scowl replaced by a frown. Anna’s grip on Arwyn’s tunic loosens—but doesn’t release the fabric—as she searches the older girl’s eyes for something, _anything_ to deny the truth that’s pulsating off her fiancée in waves.

Only she can’t.

Arwyn loves her, and she’s telling the truth.

Angry, disappointed tears prick at Anna’s eyes and she clenches her teeth.

“Fuck.” The girl chokes, releasing the officer’s tunic completely to instead cover her eyes with her hand. She doesn’t even try to stop the navy soldier when she wraps Anna in her warm arms, gently rubbing circles on the small of her back as Anna weeps into her shoulder.

—Flashback End—

As much as Anna hates to admit it, Arwyn made her transition into Pryne’s society bearable. If it weren’t for her, Anna has no doubt that the last bolt keeping her sanity in place would have fallen out. The princess consort has never told the commodore this, but, after all the times the officer helped Anna deal with night terrors and post traumatic stress, she supposes that she probably should.

Almost as if on cue, Anna hears the bedroom door open and close with a soft _click_ – a habit the officer only adapted to not startle the princess who now shares her room. A fond smile twitches at the corners of Anna’s lips upon recollection of the fact.

Arwyn silently takes her place beside Anna on the balcony and stares out at the ocean, not wanting to do anything to disturb her wife’s thoughts. Anna’s fond smile twitches a little wider at the woman’s selfless antics, and she chuckles quietly.

“Hello to you, too.” Anna says, humour dancing in her eyes. An affectionate smile spreads over Arwyn’s lips, but she keeps her eyes ahead. Anna raises an eyebrow at the unusual lack of response and turns to the older woman, resting her side against the marble railing. She notices the Prynian royal is holding an official-looking piece of parchment, and her amusement fades. “I’m assuming that involves me?” Anna asks, nodding to the offending object. Arwyn glances down at it, her expression unreadable.

“Yeah.” The commodore breathes, sending the younger woman an uncertain smile. A frown tugs at Anna’s lips.

“Is it bad?” She asks, anxiety starting to make it’s familiar trek up her spine. An indecisive frown spreads over Arwyn’s lips and she shrugs vaguely.

“That depends, really.” She says, choosing her words carefully. Her frown deepens and her eyebrows knit together as she half turns to Anna and holds out the neatly folded piece of parchment, bearing a broken royal blue wax seal that once held it closed. Anna glances down at it, and her breath immediately hitches.

The wax has the pressed insignia of the House of Arendale.

“Elsa?” Anna chokes. This is the first thing the young queen has sent to Pryne in almost a year. Anna’s eye flickers over the broken seal and her frown deepens. “Why is it open?” She asks, trying to keep the bitter accusation out of her voice. If Arwyn’s apologetic smile is anything to go by, she only half succeeds.

“Because it wasn’t addressed to you.” Arwyn says, flipping the paper over show the addressee: King Phillip Prathian. Anna tries to ignore the disappointment that surges in her chest.

“Oh.” Anna says, her face twisting in confliction. She glances up to meet Arwyn’s eyes. “Why did you bring it to me?” The same unreadable expression flitters over the officer’s face.

“I think it’ll make more sense if you read it.” Arwyn says, her words slow and carefully placed. Anna’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, but she does what Arwyn suggests and takes the parchment. She opens it and scans it. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

It’s a short letter that reads:

_I accept your invitation to the gladiator tournament._

_Sincerely,  
Queen Elsa of Arendelle._

Anna’s first instinct is to cheer and celebrate, but Arwyn’s caution in bringing this to her attention makes her pause, and in that short second she realizes just how ways this could turn sour. Swallowing thickly, Anna tentatively meets Arwyn’s eye.

“You think she’ll make a move, don’t you?”

Arwyn’s jaw muscles bulge and her eyes flicker to the side, regret falling over her face so fast it makes Anna’s heart hurt. When time continues to drag on with the commodore not agreeing or disagreeing—even though the answer is obvious—Anna knows that the woman is sparing her from hearing the words aloud. Although Anna wants to smile at the kind gesture, the same sick feeling she had all those months ago comes crashing back with a ferocity that makes Anna want to hurl, because somehow she knows—she fucking _knows_ —what Elsa is capable of now.

She would raze Pryne and everyone in it to the ground without a second thought.

Suddenly she’s very glad that Elsa refused to come to her wedding.

Feeling lightheaded, Anna turns fully to the railing and grips it with both hands, the parchment in her right crinkling under the princess’s white-knuckle hold.

While part of Anna desperately wants to believe that Elsa would only ever have accepted her invitation if she felt as though she was mentally prepared to come and leave without incident, but another—more logical—part of her says that the past year has driven her adopted sibling to the brink of insanity. And, as much as Anna hates herself for assuming the worst, she knows Elsa will slaughter hundreds of thousands of people if she herself doesn’t tread carefully.

So if something goes wrong, it’ll Anna’s fault. Again.

 _So for once in your fucking, worthless life, try to get this right._ Anna cringes at her internal voice, but she can’t find it within herself to deny it. Why would she? The voice is right.

The stupid fucking thing is always right.

“What do you want me to do?” Anna asks with a soft, fragile voice.

She’s so lost in her mind that she physically starts when Arwyn is suddenly flush against her back, with her arms wrapped around the younger girl’s waist. The commodore sighs gently and buries her head into the crook of Anna’s neck.

“I want you to stop beating yourself up.” Arwyn whispers, nuzzling closer to the woman in her arms. A bitter, self decrementing smile slides over Anna’s lips, but instead of arguing an issue she’s sure to lose, she says:

“What sort of measures do you think I should take during the tournament? I mean, Elsa is liable to shatter if I’m not careful.” Anna feels Arwyn frown against her skin, obviously disapproving of Anna’s redirection, but lets it slide nonetheless.

“I think that you would be a better judge of that than anyone else – you’re the one who grew up with her. Just . . . play it by ear. Oh,”—Arwyn says, suddenly—“I almost forgot – Phillip wants you to wear a dress for the formal banquet.” Anna guffaws, half in amusement and half in relief at the topic change.

“Does he ever let up? I’m not wearing one of those dreadfully un-tactical things, no matter what the occasion is. Besides, I don’t see anything wrong with my regular wardrobe.”

Anna’s regular wardrobe is literally almost exactly the same as it was while she was in Arendelle, from the ice blue, the engraved snowflakes, the style and even down to the detail of always rolling her sleeves up past her elbows. Her formalwear isn’t that much better, either – not only is it ice blue with royal blue trimming and engraved silver snowflakes, it’s also her Arendelle formal military attire. Also, on a silver chain that rarely ever leaves her neck, is a silver ring with an engraved snowflake – the ring Elsa had proposed to her with.

Honestly, the only thing she wears that shows her loyalty to Pryne is the golden sash she always has tied around her waist.

Arwyn chuckles against Anna’s neck.

“Sure.” She drawls. Anna can practically hear the older woman rolling her eyes. Barking a laugh, Anna turns in Arwyn’s arms and—dropping the parchment—threads her fingers through the hair falling out of the woman’s bun—Anna doesn’t understand why it never stays in place—and pulls the officer in, melting their lips together.

Anna admits that she still feels guilty every time she falls into her wife, as if she’s somehow betraying Elsa in a relationship that can never be—no matter how much they loved each other; _still_ love each other—but another part of her needs the human contact. She can’t even dispel her guilt by saying that it’s an expected part of their relationship—like it had been on their wedding night—because it’s simply not true.

On their wedding night Anna didn’t want Arwyn to touch her; everything was still too fresh for her to allow it in good conscious. Much to Anna’s surprise, Arwyn had agreed without question – but said that there were people outside the door listening to making sure they ‘did the deed’, so she prompted the new princess consort to masturbate and make a lot of noise. Anna had agreed, naturally, and the two got through the night without ever touching each other; even though Anna suspects that Arwyn was just as happy watching the younger woman fall apart beside her.

Since then the half-royal has grown on the princess. She can’t go as far as to say that she loves the commodore, because she doesn’t, but it’s a learned affection that she takes solace in. It’ll never match the passion and heart-bursting love she had with Elsa, but it’s the best substitute she could have ever hoped for.

Part of her hopes that Elsa is seeing someone else, even if it’s only meaningless physical entanglements to fill the gaping hole Anna left behind, but Anna knows Elsa too well for that. As much as she desperately wants to believe otherwise, she knows that Elsa is alone – and it crushes her insides to dust thinking about it because she doesn’t know how much longer Elsa can stay sane without it.

Then again, that’s the question, isn’t it?

Is Elsa still sane?

Bile rising in her throat, Anna forcibly shoves Elsa from her mind and starts pushing Arwyn into the room, towards the bed.

“I have,”—Arwyn tries, only to be cut off by a kiss—“to go back,”—another kiss—“to work.” Arwyn groans, pulling Anna’s hips into hers despite her words. Anna smirks and grinds into the older woman. A low moan rumbles in the commodore’s throat, and her eyelids flitter just enough for Anna to notice.

“No you don’t.” Anna says, as if her word settles everything; and they do. The moment their heated lips connect again, Anna knows that Arwyn isn’t going anywhere.

Anna pushes Arwyn back into the bed but, before she climbs on top of her, she chances a glance to May and Lila who sit on either side of the door, diligently guarding it. Lila meets the girl’s split-second gaze, and a lump lodges in her throat at what she sees in those snowy eyes.

Understanding. Support. Loyalty. Regret. Shame.

Apology.

Since when had her guardians blamed themselves for the predicament Anna got herself into?

Anna ignores this heart-wrenching thought and lets herself fall and melt into her wife.

She doesn’t want to think about how many people she hurt due to her carelessness. Not right now.

Not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to delve into the alternate storyline I had mentioned without getting into the trap of a multi-chapter story, so I decided to do this little one-shot. I'm open to do more based in this universe (if your request follows the brief alternate storyline I gave you at the end of _When the Knocking Starts it Never Stops_ , because I actually have a rough outline of events for this thing), but I'll only do it upon your insistence.
> 
> So you know, if you do want me to continue, I'm warning you that it will be depressing as shit (this chapter won't even be able to hold a candle to it). That said, if you guys like this enough that you insist upon not only additional chapters but an _ending_ as well, I'll make it as satisfyingly happy as I can safely manage - it'd be the least I can do after ripping your hearts out a dozen times over.


	2. Chapter Outlines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things have come up that I have to deal with, and I won’t have time to write here anymore. However, I feel like a giant bag of shit for hyping some of you up for this third piece only to say it won’t be getting written anymore. So what I’m going to do is give you the chapter outlines for all the chapters I was planning on writing so that you at least get the story, even without the creative writing. I’m still going to answer PM’s and shit, but my activity will otherwise go dark after this.
> 
> Some sections are far less detailed then others because I had less of an idea of the specific aspects I was planning on writing – so if some of these points make no sense to you, it’s because they were made with my imagined possible scenes and conversations; so while they make perfect sense to me, they might not mean anything to you.
> 
> FFnet people – the exact type of bullet points I used work on A03 but not FFnet, and I couldn’t seem to fix it. So I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with this version where the ‘-’ is the first bullet and the secondary bullet point (relating to the bullet it’s under). Trust me, I don’t like it any more than you (it ruined my perfectly good organization system).
> 
> Now, on to the chapter outlines! (That I actually made ten times more detailed than I usually would have to make up for the lack of any more completed chapters [typically I just make them funny to amuse myself while I’m working])

Chapter 2:

  * Start in Pryne; six weeks after Chapter 1. Shit is _crazy_ with all the preparations, the population hype, all the foreign nobility, etc.

  * Anna, just getting out of a room where foreign dignitaries and nobility wanted to speak with her (because of her connection to Elsa and Arendelle – a very hot, unnerving yet fascinating topic at the moment because Elsa’s coming to the tournament). Arwyn finds her and pulls her into a side room, helping Anna get away from the pestering people. Anna: “Thanks.” The two go to the window and look out at the city and ocean, and all the craze. Anna: “Is it always like this?”; Arwyn: “Pretty much, yeah. ...Though it might be a little crazier this year.” Anna frowns, confused, but soon sees what Arwyn does – a proud Arendelle ice ship—about the same size as the Royal Grace—sailing towards the docks. Write about Anna’s internal; “this is awesome”/“This is bad” dialogue.

  * POV SWITCH. Talk about what Elsa hears, sees and feels as she watches her ship dock from her place at the helm. Elsa is wearing her formal military drab – very similar to her outfit in Chapter 1. There’s already a gawking crowd of onlookers. Have a little side comment like; “Well, this should be fun” before Elsa mounts her horse and summons an ice plank to go down. With her demeanor as dark and dangerous as it is—even more so now that she’s out of her natural element—the crowd splits in a scramble and Elsa has an uninterrupted path for her entire journey to the castle. When she’s outside the castle, ready to dismount, she has the thought; ‘I hope I can make it through this.’

  * POV SWITCH. Anna and Arwyn are making their way through the halls of the second floor—Arwyn tactfully telling anyone who wants to talk to Anna to shove it—towards the entry hall. As they start getting closer they feel the temperature starting to drop and, when they’re almost there, hear tense voices – as if people are trying to be nice but it’s, in reality, a barely masked argument. Anna and Arwyn appear at the top of the stairs to see Elsa, King Phillip Prathian and a couple of Phillip’s council talking with Elsa. Elsa does not look pleased. Anna—her blood pounding in her ears—only sees and hears the woman who she’s not seen for almost 15 months. Anna (whisper): “Elsa?”

    * Elsa looks up and their eyes lock. Anna feels suspended in time and—before she knows what she’s doing—she’s running down the stairs. When she reaches the floor, Elsa snaps out of her stupor and runs to meet the girl – they plow into each other with Elsa lifting Anna into the air and spinning her before setting her back down. The two adopted siblings cling to each other as if the world would crack and burn if they let go. Speak of Anna’s thoughts and feelings (it’s still in her POV) of finally having Elsa in her arms again. The temperature regulates. The two don’t speak, content just being in each other’s arms. After a minute or two, Arwyn clears her throat and says: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Queen Elsa. I’m Arwyn Prathian.” Elsa goes stiff in Anna’s arms, and—before Anna can stop her—Elsa pulls herself from Anna’s embrace and glares daggers into the Prynian half-royal. The temperature plummets. Elsa (spits): “So you’re Anna’s wife.” A tense, awkward, fucking terrifying conversation follows that Anna is barely able to dispel enough for Elsa to storm off towards her room. Shit just got real.

  * TIME JUMP & POV SWITCH. Elsa’s thoughts and emotions over the event in the castle entryway as she makes her way to the formal anyone-who’s-anyone-is-invited banquet. She enters and the almost packed room goes deathly silent. Elsa ignores this and goes to her seat. Explain seating arrangement – point out how Anna is sitting closer to the king / the head of the table while Elsa is sitting further away, even though Elsa has more stature and should be closer than Anna. Pryne’s trying to fuck with her. Elsa eats in silence, merely listening to the other conversations (note to self: mention an few of them). Someone tries to address Elsa; she glares at them, but doesn’t otherwise do anything to tell them to leave her alone. They ask: “So, what’s it like finally being in Pryne?” The temperature plummets. Elsa glares, working her jaw. Elsa (grits): “You don’t want to know my answer to that.” The crack of ice – everyone notices that she’s starting to freeze over the room. Elsa abruptly stands and leaves. Anna calls out of her to stop. Elsa doesn’t listen.

  * POV SWITCH. Anna seats back down at the table, rubbing her eyes. The temperature starts regulating itself again. Speak of Anna’s reaction to Elsa’s outbursts, and her internal monologue because of it. Arwyn (whispers): “Are you alright?” Anna (grits): “No. I am far from alright.”

 

Chapter 3:



  * Beginning of tournament – three days later.

  * Elsa in room; internal monologue about how she signed up to be a fighter, and trying to think about how she’s going to play her absence. She doesn’t fight until the third round—that’s right – all she has to do is flip out on the first bout and leave, never returning as a spectator for the remainder of the fights. Also mention her poor sleeping habits – how her regular work-till-you-drop method would not serve her well for the tournament and made a couple trips to her ship to fight herself into a dreamless sleep, just enough times to feel mentally prepared for the coming battles.

  * POV SWITCH. Anna in room - her thoughts about how the last three days have been going: Elsa avoiding her, etc. Talk to Arwyn.

  * POV SWITCH. All sitting in the royal booth – fairly big, holds at least 40 people. Elsa sits on the end at the top – again, the furthest away from the king as she could possibly sit. He’s trying to pull rank / embarrass her. Write Elsa’s reactions as she watches the first bout; she freezes her chair and storms off when the fight is finished. Anna stares off after her, helpless to stop her.

  * Elsa in her armour (heavy leather plate armour with a grated helm – you can’t see her face, hair, or any part of her skin) waiting in the back with the other contestants. She worries as she sizes up her opponents, wondering if she trained enough to withstand against these people. She believes her mixed brute/dextrous fighting style will give her an edge, but it’s hard to say until she’s actually facing them in the sand. She and her opponent are called out – they exit the waiting area and go out to the cheers of the crowd. She is announced as the; ‘mystery knight’ who will only be revealed upon defeat or upon being crowded the tourney victor.

    * Fighting starts. Elsa analyzes his fighting style – very, _very_ good defense (he wields a shield and sword – Elsa is duel wielding Spartan style swords); looks very trained in counter attacks and only makes very precise strikes. The two dance around each other and exchange blows. Elsa injures her shoulder when the man hits her with a shield bash, but she disarms the man and breaks his kneecap, then levels her sword at his neck. He yields. King Phillip stands and, after waiting a few suspenseful beats, declares that the man may live. Elsa sheaths her swords and leaves. This was the only fight she had today (it’s only round 1 elimination).

  * Several hours later. Elsa is sitting in a secluded area of the castle gardens, chilling the area enough for it to be comfortable for her. Write about her passing thoughts – what must Anna think of her because of avoiding her since she got here, the slight throb in her shoulder (which is more bruised than injured and will be perfectly fine) and how things back home are doing – she half imagines Gerta, Kai and Kristoff rooting for her as her personal cheer squad. Then again, the rest of Arendelle is probably right behind them.

    * Anna: “Hey.” Elsa starts – didn’t see the girl approach. Elsa: “Hey.” Anna fidgets for a moment before sitting beside Elsa on the bench. Beat. Anna starts talking small-talk, something Elsa allows herself to engage in – she needs some moments of peace. Eventually, Anna says: “It doesn’t snow here, you know. It’s such a stark difference from Arendelle that I just . . . gods, I just miss it.” Elsa stares at Anna’s worn, weary face and her heart breaks a little. Elsa turns back to the little open area they occupy and covers it in snow. Anna’s eyes light up, and she beams. Elsa smiles, and says: “Good thing I’m here then, huh?” Anna jumps in the snow and starts playing with it, goading Elsa to join her. After a while Anna’s attempts lift the weight on Elsa’s heart enough for her to accept, and she joins Anna in building a snowman. The two laugh, play and throw snow at each other. When Anna hits Elsa in the face with a snowball, Elsa starts chasing Anna around – that said girl squealing in excitement as she dodges the older girl. Elsa eventually tackles Anna, summoning a bank of snow for the two to fall into. The two laugh. Elsa pushes to her elbows. The two stare into each other’s eyes and, even though Elsa knows she shouldn’t, she leans in and presses her lips to Anna’s. Her brain shorts out.

    * POV SWITCH. Anna’s thoughts as Elsa leans in and the feeling of bliss when they kiss. She didn’t realise how much she missed this – _needs_ this; she loves Elsa so much it physically hurts – how was she able to stay away for this long? Thoughts continue like this until Elsa slowly pulls away and they look into each other’s eyes. They stay like that for a blissful, beautiful couple of seconds until reality crumbles in and guilt punches Anna in the stomach – but she’s still not strong enough to push Elsa away. She grits her teeth. Anna: “Elsa . . .” Elsa hears the tone and winces, her features cracking in heartbreak at the rejection. She pushes to her feet. Anna’s insides go cold at the sight and she stands, as well. Anna: “Elsa, don’t— I can’t— I’m with Arwyn now, and, as much as I love you, I can’t cheat on her.” Their words against each other steadily get harsher until they practically break each other’s heart all over again. Elsa storms off, Anna tries to follow but Elsa puts up a barrier of ice – leaving Anna helpless as Elsa walks away. Anna’s heart cracks and she sinks to the ground weeping. She’s hit with an anxiety attack and she’s helpless to fend it off as it grips her.

    * POV SWITCH. Elsa storms into her room and slams the door, practically hyperventilating. She freezes over the room (making it sound proof) and wails as loud as she can – no longer able to hold back the raging pain that’s built up inside her chest. She’s hit with an anxiety attack and, just like Anna, she is helpless to stop it as it takes over her and leaves her helpless to do anything but ride the pain.

 

Side note: _Anxiety attacks_ and _panic attacks_ are virtually the same thing, and they’re painful as hell. Here’s a quote from the internet that I think describes it well:

“Many who experience a panic attack, mostly for the first time, fear they are having a heart attack or a nervous breakdown. ... Experiencing a panic attack has been said to be one of the most intensely frightening, upsetting, and uncomfortable experiences of a person's life and may take days to initially recover from.”

 

Chapter 4:



  * Several days later – the final day of the tournament.

  * General overview about the state of the city (excited with only three bouts left to go, etc), the state of the castle (with tensions rising – Elsa, ever since the incident with Anna, has been less and less able to hold her tongue or her temper), and the mental state of Arwyn, Anna and Elsa.

  * Anna and Arwyn talk softly as they enter the dining room – which is already filled with King Phillip and all the other royals. Everyone’s stiff – something’s going on. Anna and Arwyn take their irregular spot near the head of the table—a spot they usually never have—and spy one empty seat near the end of the table, yet all the royals are already here. Elsa enters. The colour drains from Anna’s face and her stomach fills with dread. The dinner commences in eerie silence.

    * Near the end of the main course, Phillip finally breaks the silence. Phillip: “Say, Elsa – I hear you’ve been becoming more hostile towards my people.” Everyone stiffens. The temperature drops several degrees. Elsa glares, her jaw clenched painfully, but doesn’t respond. Phillip continues by giving vague examples, all while staying aggravatingly calm. Eventually, Phillip says: “You obviously hate it here, and you make sure that everyone knows it at every step and turn.” Elsa (grinds): “What’s your point?” Phillip calmly sets down his utensils and gives Elsa an even look. Phillip: “You never should have come here if you believed you couldn’t handle it, but still you did and now everyone is paying the price. I get that you’re fond of Anna, but she belongs to Pryne now,”—frost starts creeping across the table—“and if that fact bothers you so bad, why don’t you leave before your temper snaps and you start a conflict you can’t win?” A spark lights in Elsa’s eyes and the crackle of ice freezing the table solid slices through the air. Everyone except Phillip jumps back, but even his nerves seem to be fraying. Elsa: “‘Start a conflict I can’t win’?”—She slowly stands, snarling like a rabid dog—“No – you started a conflict you couldn’t win when you continuously decided to dangle Anna over my head like a goddamn prize, because you thought it would be a brilliant fucking idea to provoke the queen of ice and snow with the faux idea that having Anna made you immune to my wrath. Well, I have a news flash for you, _King_ ,”—she slowly walks around the table, approaching Phillip—“I would have razed your kingdom to the ground the moment I received news of Anna’s betrothal if I didn’t think she would despise me for slaughtering hundreds of thousands of innocent people, even when I myself could care less.”—She stops right beside him as he scrambles to his feet—“But if you’re so eager to die,”—ice forms around her fist—“I’m more than willing to fulfil it.” Anna: “No!” Anna sprints and jumps over the table, leaping in front of Phillip to take the blow just as Elsa’s fist is about to land. Elsa is able to pull back enough force to not crush Anna’s ribcage, but she still fractures a few ribs. Anna connects with the floor, groaning and clutching at her chest. Elsa’s heart sinks to her stomach and she pales. She dispels the ice and goes to Anna.

    * POV SWITCH. Anna’s chest and lungs burn. She’s gasping and choking for air. Through the black dots in her vision, she sees Elsa near before her, saying things that she can’t quite hear over the ringing in her ears. When the ringing fades she hers; Elsa: “Anna, are you okay? Please, say something.”—Her voice gets choked on emotion—“I’m so sorry, Anna – I didn’t have enough warning to pull back the force. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Anna, bitter, spits: “You never do.” Her muscles instantly halt as dread fills her chest and her heart grows cold. She glances up to Elsa’s face just as it recovers from wounded shock into something much more harsh. Anna pales. Anna: “Wait, no – I didn’t mean that.” Elsa stands. Elsa (roughly): “Yes. You did.”—She turns to Phillip—“I’m leaving. Never contact me again.” She turns heel and starts to leave. Anna struggles to her elbow – pain flares in her chest. Anna: “Elsa, please! I’m sorry!” Elsa doesn’t listen. Anna forces herself to a knee, no matter how much her chest protests, and wails: “Please Elsa! _You’re all I have left!_ ” Elsa, her hand on the door knob, goes rigid – in the same instant, her emotions get the better of her and the huge double doors shatter into thousands of pieces. After a beat, Elsa throws down the knob that’s still in her hand and, without turning around, says: “That’s where you’re wrong. _You_ were the only thing _I_ had left.” She leaves. Anna: “No, come back! _Please don’t leave me!_ ” Anna breaks down into sobs and her chest constricts painfully from something other than her fractured ribs, and her body floods with emotional agony. She takes one glance at the shell-shocked king, and white-hot hate flares in her chest – but what shocks her is that, with it, comes an urge that she hasn’t had in over three years. The urge to kill. She’s regained her will to kill.

  * POV SWITCH. Elsa is in a daze as she gallops to her ship, hardly caring about the people she almost tramples along the way. Her thought process is scrambled. Time eludes her. Explain what she’s feeling, how she’s dealing with it (not very well – trying to ‘conceal, don’t feel’), along with her detrimental thoughts that are steady getting worse until— Moira, seeing Elsa’s approach from the Royal Grace, exits the ship and races behind the Queen to Elsa’s ship, quickly climbing up behind her. Moira: “Elsa, what’s wrong?” Moira continues to ask questions—alerting the rest of the crew to the trouble—but Elsa doesn’t answer. Instead she locks herself inside the captain’s cabin. She wails, screams, and angrily sends spikes into the wall. Life isn’t worth anything without Anna. Life isn’t worth living without Anna. Life isn’t . . . it isn’t— Elsa falls to her knees, suddenly holding her emotions in check except for the tears burning in her eyes. With an angry wail, she summons an ice dagger and presses the tip against her throat. She only ever lived for Anna, so without her . . . Elsa presses in the dagger, drawing blood, and prepares to slice across—

  * POV SWTICH. Anna watches Elsa’s ship sails away from her vantage point at the medical center’s picture window. Explain her thoughts, feelings (numb except for the angry fire burning in her chest) and how she blames Phillip for losing Elsa forever. Continue these thoughts until Arwyn gently clears her throat from behind her. Arwyn: “The final bouts are about to begin – if you want to see them we have to head down to the arena. If not, well, we can stay here or, you know, whatever.” Anna turns her harsh, calculated gaze to Arwyn, who stiffens under the scrutiny. Eventually, a cruel, vindictive smile slides over Anna’s lips. Why would she miss a prime opportunity to stab King Phillip in the back while everyone is distracted? Anna (oily): “I think I could do with seeing some heartless bloodshed.”

  * TIME JUMP. For the entire first bout, Anna was planning on how exactly she would be able to get from her seat to behind Phillip’s without getting noticed, then about exactly how to kill him. She didn’t bring any weapons with her—they would have been taken from her, anyway—so she’d have to rely on the strengths of her own body. Before she can think of a viable plan, the announcer is already announcing the next bout, making her grit her teeth at her slowly fading amount of time. Her attention is distracted, however, when the announcer calls a second time for the mystery knight. The crowd begins to murmur. Anna frowns. If the knight fails to show up, then she’ll have even less time to—

  * The crowd falls silent as the mystery knight, swords already drawn, stocks into the arena practically radiating danger. Despite herself, Anna finds her interest taken – through all the other bouts this knight had fought in, they had always been calm and collected – nothing like the raging chaos she sees now. The fight commences, and Anna is shocked to see all the knight’s style thrown away in favour of a barbaric urge to slaughter. The knight’s opponent struggles to keep an upper hand, but he is greatly overpowered and he soon finds himself screaming ‘yield!’. Everyone holds their breath as the mystery knight, seconds from killing her opponent, roars in the man’s face but lets him be, not even waiting for Phillip to choose if the man is to live or die. As much as Anna wants to continue plotting her revenge, there is a dangerous air amongst the arena and she gets the feeling that something bigger than her is about to go down.

  * The third bout starts. Everyone watches with baited breath and in near silence as the two knights brutally duke it out. Armour plates shatter, the opponent’s shield cracks – one of the mystery knight’s swords severs. In a strike to the head, the mystery knight’s helm flies off, revealing— Anna (jumping to her feet): “Elsa?” The whole crowd gasps (after seeing Elsa for themselves – only the people in the royal booth hear Anna) and everything turns into an uproar of sound as Elsa spits out blood, turns back to her opponent—now reeling—and bellows a roaring war cry before charging him. With her heavy attacks, she smashes her opponent’s shield, half slices off his sword arm at the elbow, and stops before shoving her sword through his neck when he yields. Throwing down her swords, she stocks towards the royal booth, stopping when she’s a good four meters away. Elsa: “I win! Now grant me my wish and give me Anna!” The crowd ripples with surprise. Most of the royal’s push to their feet, shock on their faces. Anna struggles through them to get to the front. Phillip: “You entered this contest illegally.” Elsa: “What? No I didn’t! I followed all your rules!” Phillip: “We have no proof that you didn’t use your powers to cheat.” Elsa: “Are you calling the Queen of Arendelle a cheater?”—Elsa glares and snarls, the temperature dropping to just above freezing; her tone takes on a venomous edge—“I played fair and square so that there would be no possible way to despite my winning claim, so if you continue to deny me what is mine, I will declare war on Pryne!” The crowd cries out. King Phillip sets his jaw. Phillip: “How could Anna ever forgive you for slaughtering innocent people?” Anna: “Fuck you, you selfish ignorant bastard! If she wants to declare war on Pryne _I’ll help her kill every last one of you!_ ” The crowd goes quiet. The royals stare at Anna, chest huffing, with wide eyes. Arwyn: “Anna—” Anna: “No! I’ve had _enough_ of this bullshit, and I want to go home. If that means I have to slice his head from his shoulders than I am more than willing to!”

    * After another page of threats and bantering, of which includes spikes of ice and Elsa supplying Anna—who is thankfully wearing gloves—with two ice swords and a couple pieces of armour – King Phillip agrees on the term that Arwyn goes with them. Elsa agrees a little too quickly for normal liking. Anna suspects Elsa is planning on killing Arwyn once they’re out of Pryne boarders.

    * Anna tries to convince Arwyn not to go later on when they’re packing—she still cares about Arwyn, after all—but Arwyn says that she’d be under just as much fire if she didn’t go than if she did. They pack in silence. After a while, Anna—overwhelmed, stumbles and sits on the bed. Arwyn: “Anna? Are you alright?” Anna nods vaguely, and huffs a laugh. Anna: “I . . . I’m going home.”

 

Chapter 5:



  * Morning. Three weeks later. The kingdom is a flurry of motion as they see both Elsa’s ship and the Royal Grace rolling into port (Elsa’s ship only sailed a short distance away from port on the final tourney day to give the illusion of leaving, but didn’t actually).

  * Elsa stands at the bow of her ship, watching the approaching shore with narrow eyes. Her eye catches motion on the Royal Grace and looks. Seeing Anna dragging Arwyn out from the lower desks and pointing energetically to the shore, Elsa growls and turns heel, walking back to the captain’s cabin.

  * POV SWITCH. Anna catches Elsa entering the captain’s cabin of her ship and frowns, but turns most of her attention to Arwyn, who regards the land with awe. Describe the icy reinforcements, the amount of golems, etc. Anna frowns. Write how she notices the difference between how it is now to when she left – it feels like it’s always calculating an assault. Arwyn gushes over it, but notices Anna’s concern – Anna willingly shares her thoughts of the militarized Arendelle. She tells Arwyn to be careful and stick very close to her when they land.

  * The Royal Grace docks fully first. Anna and Arwyn exit. Anna grins and waves at the crowd as they cheer for her return. As they cross the threshold from the docks to the cobblestone (the crowd is held at bay by golems), Anna is wrapped in a crushing hug by Kristoff. When he releases, she sees that Sven, Gerta and Kai have also come to greet her. Talk. Eventually; Kristoff: “So, who’s this?” Anna frowns and her and Arwyn share a wary glance. Before they can answer, however, Elsa comes up from behind them. Elsa (frigidly): “Anna’s wife.” The shoulders stiffen on all three who came to greet Anna, and even Sven tenses. Anna sees Elsa’s cold, harsh eyes and her bulging jaw muscles. Elsa: “Don’t worry, though.”—Elsa’s eyes slide to Arwyn, her dark gaze promising death—“She won’t be for long.” Anna’s insides grow cold, but Elsa turns to Kai before she can say anything. Elsa: “Does the council have any pressing issues?” Kai: “No, your majesty.” Elsa: “Good.”—She turns heel, facing the way you’d go if you were headed out of town, and snaps her fingers—“You’ll see me in three days.” Elsa’s horse comes and she mounts. The crowd, almost eerily less enthusiastic than before, parts. Elsa gallops off. Anna pales. Anna: “The people are scared of her.” Gerta (frowning): “They have every reason to be.”—Turns to Anna—“She’s not the same person she used to be, and not in a good way.”

  * The next three days pass with Anna getting settled, learning about what’s changed in the kingdom (including the hostile foreign laws, the aggressive military defence stance, Elsa’s working schedule, etc) and is approached by the council – they want her to consider rejoining their meetings, vaguely hinting that they need someone to cancel out Elsa’s aggression. Anna meets up with Gerta in the woman’s room, and Gerta explains how her position changed after the Iloa-Pryne peace talks fell through. Gerta also explains Elsa’s slowly degrading system, and how her morals are crumbling as fast as her sanity. She says that they have to put a protection plan in place for Arwyn before Elsa comes back or else the girl will end up dead – she also urges Anna to leave the practical, logical talk to Gerta because she’s been dealing with situations far worse than this, and was still able to talk sense into the Queen. Anna and Arwyn have a talk about all of this in their room. Arwyn talks about her thoughts about all this, and also admits that she’s scared out of her mind. So Anna, Arwyn, Kai, Gerta, Kristoff and the council work together with the little time they have, trying their best to create a plan and roles for each person to keep Elsa in line when she returns.

  * On the morning of the fourth day, Anna watches from a second story window with trepidation as she sees the citizens part in fear as Elsa trots through the town, making her way to the castle. Anna lets out a slow, anxious breath. Anna: “So it begins.”—She turns to the maid beside her—“Send out the warning.”

  * POV SWITCH. Explain how Elsa’s body feels after the three days of constant fighting, then the fire that burns hot through her veins, screaming for vengeance. She can tell the citizens can feel her ire by the way the scramble away from her. A dark, self- decrementing voice scolds her for punishing her people for something that is hardly their fault, but the white-hot rage in her veins dulls it out. As she trots over the bridge to the castle, she glances up at the castle. A dark look of resolve crosses her features and her lips pull into a tight line. Arwyn is going to die, and it’s going to be tonight.

 

Chapter 6:

  * Elsa is on edge. It’s been a full week, but she’s made no progress in offing the Prynian half-royal. When Gerta had her ‘be reasonable’ talk when she’d first returned, Elsa had taken it with a grain of salt, and never promised anything. Now, though, she gets the clear impression that people are purposely working against her, trying to keep her in place. It grates her, but she will continue fighting against them until Arwyn’s blood stains her hands.

    * A council member breaks her from her thoughts, and Elsa grunts in response. When they wait for more, Anna—who has taken to joining in on the council meetings like she used to—clears her throat and answers the inquiry. Elsa grits her teeth. What if Anna and Arwyn are plotting against her, slowly replacing her in her duties to prove that they can be more competent to throw Elsa out of power? Elsa (growls): “Everybody out.” All eyes turn to her in shock. Elsa clenches her jaw and points to the door. Elsa: “I said _out!_ ” Elsa grabs Anna’s arm as she tries to leave, and the council members send the girl anxious looks as they pack up and go. When the last one shuts the door, Elsa talks without ever turning to her adopted sibling. Elsa: “I don’t know how many strings you’ve pulled to keep your little pet safe, but her blood belongs to me. Mark my words, Anna – Arwyn _will_ die, and I don’t care how much it will hurt you.” Before Anna can recover from her shock, Elsa stands and exits the room.

  * Elsa collected all the paperwork regarding today’s meeting and any other documents that she needs to address and she works on them in her study. As much as she wants to rip Arwyn’s throat out, the kingdom still comes first. She needs to be competent and capable, or who knows what the council would do. On a more private note, though, she’s also taking this time in seclusion to drawn out the world; make her problems less complicated – make them hurt less. Knock on the door. Gerta comes in. Elsa doesn’t stop doing her paperwork, but does offer Gerta to take a seat – she doesn’t. Gerta: “I heard what you said to Anna.” Elsa: “Hasn’t everyone by this point?”—Gerta blinks in surprise, but Elsa merely starts on a new document—“Since everyone seems to be conspiring around me, I would assume that everyone would know what I say no matter who it’s to within an hour, if that.”—Elsa signs the document and moves it to the side, and starts to read the next one—“If you’ve come to scold me and re-direct my path I can assure you that your effort will be in vein, but you’re more than willing to try, if it so pleases you.” So Gerta does – she tries to convince Elsa with very solid political and emotional logic but, in the end, Elsa merely sighs and finally looks up to meet Gerta’s eyes. Elsa: “I understand what you’re saying, really – I do, but I’ve had to spend far too much time waiting with seemingly no solution in sight and I’m sick of it. I’m going to do this my way whether it’s the right thing to do or not. Now, if you are able to get another solution to me before Arwyn is a mere hunk of bloodless meat then I will be more than willing to listen but, until then, Arwyn will be in my sights – and I won’t stop until she’s eliminated.”

  * POV SWITCH. Anna: “Damn it.” Gerta has just finished relaying what Elsa said to Anna, Arwyn, Kai and Kristoff. They discuss possible plans of action (from secretly evacuating Arwyn to poisoning Elsa just enough to make her bed-ridden), until Kristoff finally comes up with the idea of the trolls – they could alter Elsa’s memory. Anna: “We’re not mess with Elsa’s brain. Fuck, it’s screwed up enough as it is – who knows what the added element of troll magic would do to it.” Kristoff: “Well, it doesn’t necessarily have to be her memories, Grand Pabbie could erase the thing that’s been the constant reason for her disintegration.” He shifts uncomfortably and sends Anna a sorrowful look. Catching on, Anna’s eyes widen and she shakes her head. Anna: “No, no – definitely not.” Arwyn: “I don’t quite think I follow.” Kai gives the woman a tortured smile. Kai: “They’re proposing erasing Elsa’s love for Anna.” Arwyn pales, thinking about how she would feel if she was forcibly made to lose her feelings for Anna. Arwyn (chokes): “You can’t do that.” Kristoff raises an eyebrow. Kristoff: “Funny, I thought you’d be the first to jump on board with this.” Arywn glares, a sneer tracing her lips. Arwyn: “It’s not right to crave a hole into someone’s soul, making them feel like they’ve lost something important that they can never get back. No – I won’t allow it.” Anna watches Arwyn with a frown, before nodding, allowing her statement to stick. They talk for a while longer. Arwyn is looking out the window and out of earshot when Anna escorts the other three out of the room. under her breath, she addresses Kristoff. Anna: “I want you to go up the mountain, get Grand Pabbie and bring him back.” Kristoff turns to her in shock. Kristoff: “You . . . you want to do it?” Anna’s eyes harden and she clenches her jaw. Anna: “No. I really don’t.” Anna shuts the door on him before he can question further.

  * POV SWITCH. The sun has just finished setting. Elsa, after practicing with her golems for the past three hours, renters the castle and makes her way back to her study. She sits down behind her desk and stares down at the paperwork, but her will to work on it has snapped, so she merely finds herself staring at it with a frown. Write about her thoughts. With a sigh, Elsa pushes up and makes her way to her room. She meets a few servants along the way, but the trip is unhindered. When she makes it to her door and her hand hovers over the handle, Elsa freezes. Flashbacks of waking up from dreams of horror flood through her brain and she pales. What’s wrong with her? She doesn’t have the will to work, or sleep, or fight herself into a stupor. She’s just . . . dead inside. The emptiness in her chest screams more painfully than anything she has ever experienced and, in that moment, her desire to be hold and told everything will be all right grabs her with chains of steel. Before she can register what she’s doing, Elsa finds herself wondering the halls and, to her surprise, knocking on Anna’s door. There’s a moment of silence before she hears a muffled, tired: “Who is it?” Elsa swallows her nervousness – swallows her pride, and chokes: “It’s me. Elsa.” Beat. Elsa hears hissed voices and shuffling, then the door unlocking—Anna never used to lock her door, and it makes Elsa’s heart hurt knowing she does now—and then it opens halfway with Anna protectively guarding the entryway – baring Elsa from entering. Anna forces a smile. Anna: “This is a pleasant surprise.” Elsa: “If it were pleasant for anyone then they’re sick fuckers.” Anna’s smile falters and she regards Elsa with a frown. Elsa shifts uncomfortably. Elsa: “Can I come in?” Anna: “No.” Anna’s quick response makes Elsa wince, but Anna doesn’t stop. Anna: “Seriously Elsa, what do you want?” Elsa pauses for a moment, a spike spearing in her heart. She tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a pained grimace. Elsa: “Nothing, I suppose.”—She turns to leave—“Sorry.” Elsa goes to take a step when the same steel chain pulls at her, wanting comfort. Sighing in defeat, she turns back to Anna. Elsa: “Can I sleep by your door?” Anna’s eyes flash with surprise and she blinks. Anna: “Uh, I suppose?” Elsa nods and sits down, leaning down against the wall beside the door frame. Anna frowns, but shuts and locks her door nonetheless. Elsa shifts her position to be leaning against the door and lays down with her back against it, using her arm as a pillow. She hears some whispered voices from inside the room and shuffling fabric, but her eyes flicker shut—

    * Elsa wakes up reeling with strangled, tortured moans ripping past her throat. She’s clammy and covered in a cold sweat, her head spinning with the faded images of her dream still screaming at her from within her skull. This seems to last for an eternity until a soothing warmth surrounds her, coaxing away her violent shivers and the devils gnawing at her brain. Elsa buries herself in this warmth, silently praying that, whatever it is, it will stay with her. Soon her exhaustion takes over and she falls back into darkness.

    * Elsa blinks herself awake in a manner she hadn’t experienced for almost a year and a half. Calmly. Smoothly. Peacefully. Elsa glances at the window and notes that, just like she used to, she’s waking up shortly before sunrise. Looking around in the dull light, Elsa’s heart freezes when she realizes . . . she’s in Anna’s bed. With Anna. And Arwyn. A conflicted look passes over Elsa’s face as she notes she woke up holding Arwyn to her chest and that the woman holds her back. Anna, spooned against her back, is also holding her gently with her head buried in Elsa’s neck. With a sickening feeling, Elsa notes how _good_ it feels. Glancing at Anna’s wife, Elsa notes that this is the opportunity that’s she’s been waiting for . . . only she can’t bring herself to do it. Arwyn, despite knowing Elsa’s murderous intentions towards her, voted to staying and helping Elsa deal with her PTSD instead of moving to another room for the night. It’s a selfless action that Elsa can’t overlook, despite the demand for blood pounding in her chest. With a sigh, Elsa gently detangles herself from the two women and quietly exits the room. Arwyn is allowed a pardon; for now. Neglecting to glance back at the couple when she leaves, Elsa misses the affectionate smile that spreads over Anna’s lips.

 

Chapter 7:

  * The council is mystified by the calm aura radiating off the Queen – something they haven’t seen in a long, long time. Anna notes their reactions with a sense of pride as she glances over to her adopted sibling. She remembers that morning, when she woke to Elsa working her way out of bed and leaving the room with Arwyn still alive and well. She recalls waking in the middle of the night to Elsa’s strangled cries of pain, the sound cutting to her heart deeper than any knife. She’d immediately gone to the elder’s aid, and Arwyn insisted on helping, despite Anna’s protests. When they’d got Elsa to the bed, Anna instantly curled around her, trying to calm her down while telling Arwyn to leave before Elsa hurt her. The argument died when Elsa grabbed Arwyn in her despair and held the Prynian tight against her chest, openly weeping against the half-royal’s shoulder. She had no trust that Elsa would have the same heart in the morning, but she was pleasantly surprised to have herself proven wrong.

  * The day continues to go pleasantly, and most of the staff are shocked speechless when they see Elsa’s soothing appearance, and some even found their mouth agape when Elsa flashed them a barely-there smile. Anna, Arwyn, Gerta and Kai discuss it with enthusiasm – ecstatic about their progress. Gerta asks where Kristoff is – she hadn’t seen him since the last meeting. Anna (shrugs): “I sent him up to Elsa’s ice castle.” Gerta frowns and says: “That place is guarded – without Elsa’s say-so he wouldn’t even be allowed within a meter of the stairs.” Anna hums and says: “I have a theory.” Gerta and Kai frown, but don’t push it – they continue talking about other things. Arwyn, however, eyes Anna with suspicion. When Kai and Gerta leave, Arwyn asks: “Where did you really send him?” Anna glances at Arwyn for a second before shrugging. Anna: “You’ll figure it out.” Arwyn narrows her eyes. Arwyn: “You sent him to get the troll.” Anna hums softly. Anna: “Perhaps, but not for the purpose you’re thinking.” Before Arwyn can question her further, Anna flashes her a smile, a ‘later’ and leaves.

  * Anna stands outside Elsa’s study posed to knock when she hers Elsa humming quietly to herself on the other side. With an affectionate smile, Anna knocks. Elsa: “Come in.” Anna enters and shuts the door behind her. Elsa surprises her with a slight smile, and Anna returns it broadly. Anna: “I see you’re looking happier.”—She sits on the armrest of one of the chairs on the other side of Elsa’s desk—“It suits you.” Elsa huffs a vaguely amused laugh, glancing back down to her paperwork. Elsa: “I don’t think anyone is outfitted to look good in . . . whatever I’ve been.” A frown traces Elsa’s lips and her eyebrows furrow just enough for Anna to notice. Anna hums thoughtfully. Anna: “Perhaps. But even while you let it define you, it never really took over.”—She smiles kindly—“Arwyn’s still alive this morning, isn’t she?” Elsa’s frown burrows a little deeper and her eyes flick from the document she was reading to an empty part of the table. Elsa: “Her actions gave her a temporary pardon, but I haven’t given up on getting her out of the picture.” Anna (shrugs): “Neither have I,”—Elsa looks to her in surprise—“but I care about her too much to approve of your method.”—She shrugs—“That being said, I came here because I have a possible solution that will make everyone happy and no blood will have to be spilt. Probably.” Elsa quirks a curious eyebrow. Elsa: “Do tell.”

  * GENERALIZED POV. Elsa and Anna are chatting quietly on the castle stairs. Kristoff approaches from a distance – crossing the bridge. Gerta shows up, asks what’s going on – the two won’t explain. Kai shows up with Arwyn. With the new addition everyone eyes Elsa warily, but the queen not only doesn’t flinch – instead she sends Arwyn a small, twitch-of-the-lip smile. As Sven nears, Kristoff jumps off his back. On the little sled being towed behind Sven, Grand Pabbie exits and follows Kristoff to the collection of people – who walk down the stairs to greet them. Grand Pabbie bows to the Queen. Pleasantries are exchanged. Grand Pabbie: “So if I may get to the point, why am I here?” Everyone except Elsa and Anna look lost. Anna glances to Elsa, who gives the ‘go head’ nod. Anna turns back to the troll. Anna: “I’ll get to that. I just have a couple of questions for you that I want to ask first, to see if the option is even viable before I start getting anyone’s hopes up.”—Grand Pabbie curiously tilts his head, but otherwise says nothing.

    * Anna: “Can you see the past, present and future?” GP: “I can see some things more clearly than others, but yes.” Anna: “Can you see what would have happened depending on if we make one choice instead of another?” GP: “Yes, but again – I can see some things better than others.” Anna: “Can you see alternate realities of our own?” Kai, Gerta, Arwyn and Kristoff frown and give each other questioning gazes. Where is Anna going with this? GP, thinking the same way, frowns. GP: “Yes.” Anna nods decidedly. Anna: “Are there any of these that Elsa is dead?” Suffocating silence. GP’s frown deepens. GP: “Yes.” Anna: “In those realities, are there any in which Arwyn is dead or doesn’t exist?” The silence stretches longer this time. GP: “Yes.” Anna: “In the realities of those two criteria, are there any Anna’s with a personality that, a; Arwyn will like, and b; won’t try to kill Arwyn or not except her?” Now everyone knows exactly what Anna is asking and, one by one, all heads turns to GP in question. GP frowns, his eyes faded as he thinks. GP (slowly): “There is one, but it’s not with an Anna that would readily accept Arwyn.” Anna (shrugs): “So? I didn’t readily accept her at first, either. Last two questions: one; can you open up a line to which we can explain our situation to that reality’s Anna, and two; can you actually create a portal for Arwyn to step through?” Three seconds pass. GP turns to Arwyn. GP: “Before I answer, I believe the more pressing question is whether or not you agree to this solution.” Arwyn’s eyebrows furrow in thought. Arwyn: “I’d actually have to see what this other Anna is like before I decide, but I’m more than willing to test it.” GP nods his acceptance of her answer. GP: “Very well.”—He turns to Anna—“I can do both of those things.” More talking and chattering – figuring out the details.

  * _Possibly_ write the scene where Anna, Elsa and Arwyn talk with the other universe’s Anna – each explaining their different circumstances and whether or not the alternate Anna would accept Arwyn. This reality’s Anna tells how she personally feels about the half-royal, then explains why she’s not happy with her – because she already met her true love. That reality’s Anna explains how Elsa died at the hands of Hans, and that she’s been on a military rampage ever since. Alternate Anna and Arwyn (oddly the rational, cooling one in the pair) decide they’d make a good pair. Anna offhandedly remarks that she needs more good officers. Arwyn offhandedly states that what that Anna needs is a slap of reality upside the head (but oddly still agrees to help in her conquests).

  * Three weeks later – Arwyn is gone into the other reality. Elsa and Anna sit on the high hill outside the city, looking down at Arendelle. Talk. Fluffiness. The two have a lot they have to work through, and it will take more time than either of them can hope to imagine, but at least now they have each other. Write at least 1-3 pages for this scene, and make at least half of it happy fluffy shit that’ll mend some of the heartbreak the readers experienced over the course of the story. Possibly have Elsa mention getting married so that she can change Anna’s last name back to Arendale. But, remember – _make everything really fluffy_. Heaven knows the poor bastards deserve it (this includes Elsa, Anna and you lovely people).

 

FIN!




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Characters I neglected to mention (May, Lila, Leo, Thayne, etc) and characters I did mention but may not of focused on much (Moira, Arwyn [near the beginning], the Prynian royals, etc) would have made a notable appearance in the story. For the sake of my sanity, however, I just stuck with the straight, through-and-through story arc instead of put attention on the little side stories. It’d be too complicated and a pain in the ass.
> 
> Anyway – hopefully this at least curbs your curiosity, even if it doesn’t meet your expectations for a full-blown story. Again, I apologize for the sudden screeching halt, but there’s not much I can do about it. For those of you who like to re-read stories, I will not be pulling down my writing – so you can go wild with that.
> 
> If any of you feel the intense urge to actually write this series out based on my outlines and believe you can do it to justice, you are more than free to PM me to ask for permission (mainly so I know who’s writing it and so I could possibly aid you). Otherwise, this is it. Ta da!
> 
> (If it amuses any of you as much as it amuses me, note that this outline is about as long as an actual chapter would have been [8 558 words]. Tells you how massive this stupid thing would have ended up being.)
> 
> Farewell, dear readers – it’s been a pleasure writing for all of you.


	3. First Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A guest once reviewed this story with; 'if you can't handle a full out fiction, why don't you make it more as drabbles in a alternate universe?' It made a lot of sense, but it was hard to pick and choose seemingly random events and have the readers follow the story arc. Now that the outlines are out, however, I can snatch any event from it that I want without fear of making anyone hopelessly lost.
> 
> Now, you may be wondering why I'm suddenly picking up where I left off after almost nine months of inactivity on this story. Well, other than my sudden halt irking me from the get-go, little 2-5 page spats actually loosen my writing and improve the other shit I'm working on. So, I figured, if I'm going to be writing little shorts anyway – why not make them on something other people can actually enjoy?
> 
> I've already combed the outline and picked the scenes I want to write. I'm going to try my best to have all of the spattered events in order, but feel free to shout out a scene you really wanted to see written up and I'll see what I can do. Sooo, yeah.
> 
> Welcome once again to the depressing alternate universe of the Knock Knock series (in drabble form). Enjoy!

Elsa and Arwyn's First Meeting

Reference Outline: Chapter 2, Paragraph 5

The smell of Elsa as she buries her face into her neck is like a gulping breath of fresh air after nearly drowning. It's the smell of crisp peppermint mixed with . . . a faint tang of iron? Weird, that never used to be there before. Anna takes in another breath and confirms her suspicion – it definitely resembles the smell of faded blood with a pinch of after-war special.

Elsa has definitely not been taking care of herself.

The touch of her feet back on the ground as Elsa stops spinning her actually catches the younger girl off-guard. She'd been so engrossed in the woman before her that she drowned out what was happening around her. The king and his council, for example, bicker in hissed breathes now that they no longer have an outlet to rage at. Anna tightens her hold on Elsa and smiles into the queen's neck at the thought. Elsa practically purrs in response.

Gods, how could she have forgotten how much she's missed this?

Tears well in Anna's eyes as she desperately clutches at the back of Elsa's military tunic as a physical tether to keep herself grounded. Even after all this time— _fifteen fucking months_ —Elsa knows exactly what the princess-consort needs without a single word being uttered.

Anna nearly weeps when she hears Elsa's broken voice murmuring nonsensical assurances in her ear while she holds on ever tighter, one hand running soothing circles on her lower back.

 _My heart is going to burst and I'm going to die_. Anna thinks. Then she realizes, with an extra hard thump of the organ, that she's probably not too far off. _Well, it certainly feels like I've died and gone to heaven_. She allows.

"Hello." A smooth voice—with traces of jealousy—says. Anna wants them to shove it. "Queen Elsa, it's a pleasure to finally meet you—" Anna's eyes suddenly pop open, recognizing the voice.

_No, please Gods no – I just got her back in my arms. Please stop talking I can't—_

"—My name is Arwyn Prathian."

Anna has half the mind to sob.

When Elsa goes rigid and all traces of warmth leave the suddenly irate queen, she actually does.

"So," a chilly voice rumbles, "you're Anna's wife." If any more venom could attach themselves to the words, the skin of everyone around her would be sizzling off.

"I . . ." Arwyn starts, her voice suddenly rigid with nerves. Serves her right for interrupting the reunion. "Yes. I am."

 _Shut up_. Anna's inner voice growls, her possessive spark making her cling tighter to the fleshy statue in front of her.

Huh. This is the first time Anna's nerves have ever been truly grated by the commodore's— _her wife's_ —presence. Even the beginning stages of their forced relationship hadn't had Anna so thoroughly annoyed by her. The woman admittedly has a soft charm about her . . . you know, when she isn't playing Pryne politics. Which, oddly enough, she tends not to in Anna's presence. Probably something about Anna's distaste for it.

Damn that fucking woman for being considerate. Anna can't even wish the woman gone without feeling like she's kicked a goddamn puppy. Well, maybe she should say; 'like kicking a full grown, vicious attack dog with big round loving eyes when faced with its owner.'

Stupid doe-eyed dog.

"Is that so?" Elsa drawls, prying Anna off her and turning to square herself with the woman. The room's temperature drops several degrees. "Do you think that gives you immunity?" A dark, crooked smile twists over her lips. Anna's stomach churns at the sight. "I suppose time will tell."

This is definitely not the woman she remembers.

For the first time Anna takes in her adopted sibling's appearance. Even though she's obviously still eating enough to look healthy instead of gaunt, there are heavy bags under her eyes that tells of many sleepless nights and a heavy burden she can't quite bare on her own, but she tries to nonetheless. The vibrancy that once shone in her eyes is now dull and diluted, filled instead with a mindless rage that never ceases. Her knuckles press the outline of scabbed wounds into the tight blue gloves she wears – the reappearance of the abhorrent things making Anna clench her jaw. Last but not least is the way Elsa holds herself – like the detached, calculated, unfeeling monarch she used to be before the first Great Freeze, only ten times worse.

In summary, Elsa is a short fuse away from pummeling everyone around her and has discarded the emotional side of herself that used to regulate the urge.

Pryne may be in more trouble than she originally anticipated.

"Is that a threat?" Arwyn asks, the muscles in her chiselled jaw jumping angrily. Elsa's crooked, sick smile twists further.

"Now now; it would be absurd of me to do such a thing, don't you think?"

Anna laughs awkwardly, already seeing where this is going. Better defuse the situation now rather than scrape off Arwyn's remains from the wall later. She opens her mouth—

"As absurd as missing our wedding." Arwyn bites.

"How's Arendelle?" Anna cuts in. She chortles uneasily. "I tried asking you in the letters I sent, but you seemed pretty content ignoring me, so—" Another sudden drop in temperature makes Anna pause. She glances up and physically starts when she sees Elsa's arctic blue eyes boring into her own.

"You sent me letters?" She asks, a low growl rumbling deep in her throat.

Dread pools in Anna's stomach. She knows that tone.

"You . . . you did get them, right?" She asks weakly, feebly hoping that her instinct is wrong.

Elsa's scowl tells her that she's, unfortunately, very right.

"Did you know about this?" Elsa grits, turning to Arwyn. Thankfully, the officer seems as genuinely confused as Anna.

"No." She says, a frown marring her lips. "I was the one who encouraged Anna to correspond with you. I don't know who—"

"Lies." Elsa snarls, advancing on the older woman. "You had everything to gain by keeping Anna and I separated. Why I should—" The familiar tang of charging up magic fills the air—something Anna supposes only she notices—and Anna pushes in-between the two woman and shoves them apart.

"That's enough!" Anna grinds, frustration caused by the unfavourable situation overcoming her. Elsa's eyes glint with rage.

"You're protecting her?" She seethes.

"She didn't do it." Anna defends, narrowing her eyes at the infuriated queen. "You should know me well enough to realize I do my homework. Arwyn's innocent." She refrains from saying; 'as innocent as any Prynian can be, at any rate.'

"Fine." Elsa spits, spittle flying from her mouth. She sharply turns heel. "I'm going to my room."

As she storms off, Anna notices the king—Phillip—twitch a smirk. Anna pales and glances his way, a look of disbelief overcoming her face. He couldn't be the one . . .

 _No_. She pales further, the sinking in her gut already telling her instinct is right. How did she not figure it out sooner? Preferably fifteen months ago, sooner.

Phillip notices her gaze. His smirk slides into a smile – one that looks nice on the outside, but one Anna has since discovered as having a more sinister disposition.

"See you at the banquet tonight. Hope to see you in the dress I hand-picked for you, hmm?" He asks. Without waiting for a response, he turns heel and leaves – his council hot on his heels like the boot lickers they are.

 _Like_ hell _I'm going to wear anything you want me to, you fucking bastard_. Anna seethes, her hands balling into tight enough fists for her nails to break skin. Arwyn lays a soothing—but noticeably hesitant—hand on her shoulder.

For the first time since their marriage, Anna wishes the woman would just be the same Prynian asshole as everyone else in the goddamn city. At least then it'd make everything so, so simple.

Kill and run.

Anna pinches the bridge of her nose. Hard.

"Come on." She murmurs, heading for the stairs. "I need to freshen up my formal military attire for the banquet." Arwyn twitches a weak amused smile.

"Phillip won't like that." She tries to jest, but the harshness of the situation makes the joke fall flat.

"Fuck Phillip." Anna snaps.

 _I'll make him rot in hell_.


	4. Fun in Snow and Hurt in Heartbreak

Fun in Snow and Hurt in Heartbreak

Reference Outline: Chapter 3, Paragraphs 7 through 9

**Elsa's POV**

Elsa sits in the now chilled garden with her head in her hands. Her left shoulder throbs in light protest—thanks to her earlier opponent—but she ignores it; it's only a minor bump, in prospective.

She doesn't know how long she stays there in that position, but it's long enough for the adrenaline of battle to fade and the exhaustion of the task ahead of her to settle in. It might as well though, she supposes – the feeling has been a permanent resident in her chest for some time now.

 _Before Anna left for Iloa_. Her brain helpfully supplies. Elsa scowls at the reminder.

"Hey."

Starting at the soft voice, Elsa snaps up until she's sitting as straight as a broad. Catching sight of the person who interrupted her, she swallows thickly.

"Hey." She replies, weaker than she would have liked.

How can she start up a conversation with the very woman she's been purposefully avoiding for the past three days? The same one who defends a wife she never wanted just because—

No. She can't blame Anna for being a good person.

Anna scuffs the toe of her boot awkwardly on the cobblestone walkway. Elsa shifts uneasily, silently debating whether or not she should move over so Anna can sit down. Does the redhead even _want_ to sit down? Elsa pauses.

 _Do_ I _want her to sit down?_ She wonders.

Apparently Anna isn't patient enough for Elsa to figure out a conclusion to her internal debate—or perhaps she doesn't want to know the conclusion—because she says:

"It doesn't snow here, you know." Her voice is forced to be even, but there's a wistful note to her words that Elsa can't ignore. Nor can she ignore the fact that the girl is blatantly avoiding mentioning her earlier storm-out at the arena. With a pang, Elsa realizes that Anna is doing the same thing she's done a thousand times before – lighten the mood to make people feel better.

Gods, she's missed that.

A small, damaged smile twitches up at the ends of the princess-consort's lips. She gestures vaguely to the sphere of cold they stand in. "Even this temperature doesn't happen often and, if it does, it's always at night or while on the _Royal Grace_. You'd think I'd get used to it after being here for so long but I . . ." Her eyes flood with grief. "It's not Arendelle." Her voice cracks. She clears her throat. She opens her mouth to say more, but her eyes well with tears and she snaps her jaw shut, the muscles jumping angrily.

The utter pain engulfing the younger's face makes Elsa's heart crack. She'd been so wrapped up in her own sob story that she neglected to properly assess just how this arrangement has affected Anna. In their first meeting three days ago she had looked her normal cheery self—although admittedly a touch disheartened—but now . . .

Elsa knows this had to have impacted Anna—being forced into marriage with a stranger tends to do that—but, until now, she hadn't really noticed the extent of the emotional and physiological damage. And she hates herself for it.

With a thick lump forming in her throat, Elsa turns to the round enclosed area they occupy and waves her hand. Within seconds the area is covered in snow with little flakes gently falling from mid-air.

"Good thing I'm here then, eh?" Elsa asks, twitching a weak smile at the younger girl.

Anna's eyes light up but, much to Elsa's surprise, she doesn't squeal or leap into it. She just . . . stares, with wide eyes like she doesn't dare to believe that this is happening until she tentatively—so much so that it makes Elsa want to weep—kneels down and touches it. She runs her fingers through it and clenches it into little half-sodden balls and then . . . a happy sob wrecks through her body.

"I can't— this is—" Anna turns to Elsa with watery eyes. "Thank you." Elsa's weak smile stretches a little wider.

"Go on then." She says, gesturing to the newly formed white playground in front of them. "Have some fun." With tears still flowing down her cheeks, Anna lets out a whoop and dives into the nearest snow pile head first. Elsa's smile flickers away as she watches. "You deserve it." She whispers, sighing softly. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

 _More than I ever will_.

Elsa yelps. She jerks her head to Anna, her eyes wide with shock as the snowball that exploded in her face starts melting. Anna can barely hold in her hysterics, but there's a broken edge to her eyes that catches the most of Elsa's attention.

"Sorry." Anna says, trying her best not to outright laugh even though her amusement is obvious. "You just looked like you needed a cold smack of reality." Elsa knows; 'you looked depressed as fuck' remained unsaid, but she ignores it in favour of the younger's poor attempt at levity. Probably better that way.

Elsa quirks an eyebrow. "What makes you think I needed a reality check?" Anna gives her an; 'are you stupid?' look, but thankfully avoids mentioning the actual cause of her concern. It wouldn't do either of them any good.

"Because you're surrounded by the source of all the world's happiness—me and snow—and your sitting over there with your foot so far up your ass you've seemed to have lost your leg up there and, with it, your ability to walk."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"I believe you heard me the first time, one-legged side-show freak." Elsa gives Anna a look. Anna gives her one right back, with a smug smirk to boot. "You getting angry?" She goads. "Oo, I'm so scared that I won't be able to outrun a hopper. Oh please, guards, protect me from this fiend! I'm afraid I am half cripple and have lost the capability of walking faster than a crawling child. Surely someone is honour bound to prot— ack!"

"You little shit!"

With startled laughter, Anna hastily wipes the snow from her eyes and dives out of the way of another incoming snowy projectile.

"You will regret egging on the goddess of winter, mortal!" Elsa calls, a joyous, playful grin stretching over her lips. "What hope have ye of defeating the all powerf— holy fuck!" Elsa quickly punches to the side, sending a large snowball flying towards her inbound adopted sibling. The same one who, with an 'eep', barely manages to dodge out of the way and duck behind cover.

"That's cheating!" She calls. Elsa laughs.

"We go over this every time; the rules state that you are to use the snow at your disposal. It's not my fault you always pick a fight with the one person who has an unlimited supply of it at her finger tips."

"Fuck you! There are no such rules!"

"Au contraire! That is technically the rule, it just remains unspoken because not everyone can be as amazing as I in casting."

"Fuck you, and fuck your technicalities!"

"My my, how rude. Is that any way to talk to a valued guest?"

"Weird. I didn't know vermin counted."

"You wound me." Elsa jumps around Anna's cover and slams a handful of snow into her face, leaving the girl sputtering and reeling. Elsa grins. "Now I wound you back."

"Cheater!" Anna cries, wiping away the melting snow. Elsa barks a laugh.

"We've been over this, have we not? Clea— oof!" Elsa feels the wind leave her lungs as Anna shoves her shoulder into the queen's diaphragm with enough force to leave them both splayed awkwardly in the snow. "Damn it, woman." Elsa wheezes, taking control of the woman's legs and flipping them over; Anna cackling like a maniac. "I know you never win a snowball fight against me, but that's hardly a reason to . . . get . . . aggressive." Elsa flushes, noticing the position she finds herself.

The smart portion of her brain tells her to get up before Anna notices, too, and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary happened. The miserable portion of her brains tells her to fuck the rules and be happy for once. In a pros and cons list the former idea comes out on top, but Elsa gets the distinct impression that the latter wins out when her eyes fall to Anna's lips. She vaguely registers Anna's laughter halting in favour of a hitched breath, but her brain shorts and stars explode behind her eyes as she claims those lips with her own.

**Anna's POV**

A groan forces its way out of her throat unbidden as she buries her hands in platinum hair and responds to Elsa's advance with gusto.

This passion is everything she's been missing; everything she's been craving. It's been so long since the last time she's felt Elsa's body move against hers that she'd nearly forgotten the feeling, and she scolds herself for it. How could she have forgotten the most wonderful sensation in the world?

Elsa pulls back slowly, an enchanting, indescribable happiness shining in her eyes. That look says everything. It says 'I love you', 'you're the one', 'I'll keep you safe' and 'you're my home' all at once. It's enough to make Anna's chest warm with affection and her eyes burn with unshed tears.

That is until the weight of their situation punches her in the gut with all the subtly of a reindeer stampede. She can't suppress her wince.

"Elsa . . ." She says, her guilt shattering the fragile peace they've formed.

The pleasure in Elsa's gaze cracks with a heartbreaking grimace and, before Anna can clear the lump out of her throat, Elsa is pushing off her. Anna's insides freeze at the sight.

"Please,"—Anna chokes, shakily pushing to her elbows—"don't— I can't— I love you, Elsa, I do – with all of my heart and then some, but I'm bound to Arwyn right now and I can't pretend otherwise."

"You seemed to have no problem 'pretending otherwise' a moment ago." Elsa snaps, scowling and stepping away as Anna stands—and staggers—at her harsh words.

"You took me by surprise." She refutes weakly, her voice hitching uncomfortably around the persistent lump that's made itself at home in her throat.

"Funny, because that didn't seem to stop you from kissing me back and _moaning_." Elsa grinds, her pitch falling further into her lower registers with every word she speaks. Anna's cheeks burn in shame. Elsa narrows her eyes at the other girl's silence. "To what do you owe that _thing_ allegiance? It—"

"That _thing_ has a name!" Anna shouts. "Her name is Arwyn and she's done a lot for me since arriving here. She's been nothing but kind to me and I refuse to repay that with betrayal!"

"She took you from your home, your fiancée!" Elsa barks, her volume finally starting to raise.

"I submitted to her terms voluntarily, and you never asked me to marry you in person so how would the hell would you know?" Anna accuses.

Elsa waves her hands in a 'how is this not obvious' gesture. "We were together for over three years, through better and through worse, and you expect me to believe you didn't consider yourself my fiancée because _of the way I proposed?_ " She roars, spittle flying from her mouth. She points an accusing finger to the ring hanging on a chain around Anna's neck. "I suppose you were so angry that you felt the need to flaunt that thing around, too? Does that make you feel dominance over me? Is this your way of getting back? Did you think it would be fucking funny? Because, news flash, _I'm not fucking laughing_."

"I wouldn't risk the lives of thousands in a goddamn scheme to get back at you!" Anna seethes. "Yes I was angry with you, but I was content with slapping you on the wrist when I got back. Things just . . . got out of hand."

Elsa smiles hollowly with a dead—yet menacing—look in her eyes. It makes Anna's heart plummet into her stomach and her core fill with dread.

"Well, for your information, your slap on the wrist in a situation that conveniently 'got out of hand' ended in the destruction of my better half." Elsa turns heel and starts walking out of the area. Anna's blood runs cold. She hurries to follow.

"Elsa, wait, pleas—" Anna runs face first into a barrier of ice that she can't get around. She tries punching it instead, ignoring the pain she causes herself by doing so. "Damn it, Elsa! Let me help you! Let us help _each other!_ Please don't shut me out again!"

Her breath comes in heavy, uncontrollable puffs as Elsa exits her limited line of sight. She sinks to her knees weeping and wailing; her heart beating wildly in her ribcage.

She's knows what's coming – the same thing that always comes after emotional trauma. This time, though, she doesn't try to fight it or stop it, even though she knows she can. Deep down she knows Elsa's suffering will lead her to the same end as she, so she lets the anxiety attack come and overwhelm her. Though the pain that steals the breath from her lungs and logical thought from her mind, somehow one clear sentence makes it through the haze.

 _You deserve this_.

Even if every nerve in her body wasn't being fried raw, she knows she would never dispute the thought. Part of her believes she deserves much worse. The other part believes she's suffered enough to finally let go forever.

She still hasn't decided which one is right.


	5. Falling out Between Monarchs

Falling out Between Monarchs

Reference Outline: Chapter 4, Paragraphs 3 through 5

Several painful more days passed with the Arendelle monarch avoiding her, not that Anna can really blame her. After her own regression in the garden, she isn't quite sure if she's up to seeing her adopted sibling, either. She supposes it works out well then, considering the two of them never did end up being anywhere at the same time naturally. More so because Elsa had refused to watch the gladiator matches after day one, a bold move considering that's the only reason she was invited.

Currently she chats quietly with Arwyn as they make their way to the royal dining hall. Anna wants nothing to do with the other Prathian princes and princesses but eating dinner with everyone else has never been optional for her.

After yet another one word answer, Arwyn gives Anna a look and a small frown. She knows better than to pry, though, and continues on with the conversation.

Arwyn had tried to get her to open up after recovering from her anxiety-ridden mind; the key word being tried. She'd learned the hard way—again—that talking about any of Anna's Elsa related experiences is completely off limits. Anna could hardly fault her for trying, though – that rule had slacked in her time away from the platinum blonde.

Well, it's back in full force now.

The pair enter the dining room, taking in the scene with suspicion. Not only is every member of the family already present, the only two available seats together are at the head of the table; a spot they never have. One lone chair rests at the end of the table.

That isn't good.

Arwyn and Anna walk to the head of the table. Arwyn goes to take the seat to Phillip's right—to spare Anna from sitting by him—but he requests the opposite.

That's definitely not good.

As Anna hesitantly sits down with Arwyn, Elsa enters. Anna pales. Elsa examines the table, the muscles in her jaw jumping angrily and her eyes narrowing when she fines the only empty placement. She flashes King Phillip a cold look. He flashes her a smile.

Everyone is going to die.

Anna can literally feel knots forming in her shoulders as the dinner commences in an eerie, foreboding silence only broken by utensils on porcelain and the sound of people eating.

_What the hell is Phillip thinking, provoking the Queen like this?_ Anna seethes internally, stabbing a poor piece of lettuce with her fork. Arwyn glances at her, concern in her eyes. Anna ignores her. _Elsa's been becoming more volatile the longer she stays here, and this stupid fucking prick of a monarch wants to pull a feeble power play like this? What a fucking idiot!_

Near the end of the main course, Phillip finally makes his move. Anna winces the moment he puts his fork and knife down, wishing he had the common sense to leave well enough alone.

"Elsa." He says, catching her attention. She glares at him, not only for speaking but for blatantly disregarding her title. "As you know, I invited you here to our humble kingdom—"

_Humble my ass!_ Anna fumes, clutching her butter knife in a white-knuckle grip.

"—to be witness to our famed gladiator tournament. However, you have not been present since the very first battle on the first day, and you have been harassing my people." The temperature drops several degrees. Phillip's eyes gleam victoriously with the change. "See what I mean?" He asks, gesturing around the room. "I address you with a simple issue and you respond with non-verbal threats, hoping to get what you want through fear."

_You're one to talk, you stupid hypocrite_. Anna's thoughts intercede.

Elsa glowers at him, knowing as well as Anna what Pryne's King is trying to do. Frost creeps onto the table from around her finger tips. Elsa discretely moves her hands into her lap. Anna is the only one who notices.

"It's obvious you hate it here," Phillip continues, "and you're trying to make sure everyone knows it by shoving your dominance into every face you come across."

"Do you have a point to this?" Elsa grinds, her voice hoarse from non-use. She must still not be fully recovered from her episode a few days a ago. Now that Anna thinks about it, Elsa looks a hundred times worse than when she first arrived, and that's saying something.

"I'm saying,"—Phillip starts, in that gratingly calm voice that makes Anna want to punch him in the teeth—"that you never should have come here if you believed you shouldn't handle it; but you did, and now everyone is paying the price. I get that you're fond of Anna—you never would have proposed otherwise—but she doesn't belong to you anymore, she belongs to Pryne."

_Bastard!_

Elsa's thoughts must be on par with her own, if the dropping temperature and the frost creeping over the table are anything to go by. Phillip, like the moron he is, goes on as if it's not happening.

"If that fact bothers you so bad," he continues, "why don't you leave before your temper snaps and you start a conflict you can't win?"

Elsa's eyes spark with righteous fire and, with a sharp series of cracks, the entire table freezes over. Phillip, for the first time, jolts and lets his facade down just long enough for Anna to catch the surprise; his nerves are finally starting to fray. She fears it won't be enough.

"'Start a conflict I can't win'?" Elsa questions, her voice low and rumbling deep in her chest. Her eyes bore into the King's.

_It definitely won't be enough_. Anna curses, wincing. Elsa's gone off the deep end.

"No,"—Elsa snarls, slowly pushing to her feet—" _you_ started a conflict you couldn't win when you continuously decided to dangle Anna over my head like she was a goddamn prize. Why? Because you thought it would be a brilliant fucking idea to provoke the queen of ice and snow with the faux impression that using Anna as a shield made you immune to my wraith. Well I have news for you, _all mighty King_ ,"—she starts approaching Phillip, hands clenched into fists—"I would have razed your entire kingdom to the ground the moment I received new of Anna's betrothal if I didn't think she would despise me for slaughtering millions of innocent people, even when I myself could care less; _still_ care less."

Phillip scrambles from his chair as Elsa gets too close for comfort, but Elsa freezes his boots to the ground before he can back away any more than two steps. He's standing beside Anna now, probably intending to use her as the human shield Elsa mentioned. It gives Anna some sick satisfaction knowing Elsa didn't allow him to do it this time, but it also just makes her sick. Very sick. She's afraid she'll retch if the situation gets any worse.

Elsa stands a pace in front of Phillip, a dark glimmer glinting in her eye, one Anna regretfully knows all too well.

"But if you're so eager to die,"—Elsa growls, ice forming over her fist along with a sharp, thin blade—"then I'm more than willing to fulfil your wish."

Anna's fight or throw up instinct kicks in and, despite her preference of passiveness in this situation, the taste of half digested food and bile never has appealed to her all that much. So she acts.

"No!" Anna screams, launching herself in front of Phillip. She may hate the man, but she doesn't want to fight in another war.

Elsa's fist is already in mid punch, and her eyes widen when the familiar redhead blocks her path. Anna hears Arwyn cry out for her and sees Elsa try to retract her ice and curb her momentum. She only partially succeeds at both.

Anna is thankful not to feel the familiar sensation of a blade entering her body, but the jarring impact of ice slamming into her side with the force of falling off a large mare onto a pointed rock isn't much better. The air leaves Anna's lungs in a rush of pain as she feels several ribs break on contact. She gasps and sputters and collapses to the ground on her good side, clawing helplessly at her wounded ribs; all while trying to force oxygen back into her lungs.

Her eyes and lungs burn, both for entirely different reasons. She hears voices, but she can't quite understand them over the high pitched ringing and dull drone in her ears. She's gasping and choking, but she can't breathe and the pain isn't helping. She wasn't prepared for this, damn it.

Spots are starting to black out her already tear-blurred vision. It sends a small shimmer of panic down her spine, but it's quickly overwhelmed by the blinding, white-hot pain of her ribs.

If she was in a battle right now, she'd be so dead.

That thought boosts her training into high gear, pumping her with enough adrenaline to kick-start her breathing and numb the pain. Her body trembles with the force of it, but she's glad for its presence.

Finally, _finally_ , she starts comprehending what's going on around her. The first thing she notices is the soft sound of Elsa crying and murmuring incoherently in front of her. Anna blinks her eyes to rid them of tears and the black blotches, but it's a slow process. Her head pounds. Her heart roars in her ears. She can barely concentrate. She groans and rolls her head to face the ceiling. Gods, she feels like shit.

Her action catches the attention of the people around her. She hears Arwyn asking how she is, someone in the hallway screaming for a doctor—or had they been doing that for a while?—the worried questions directed at Arwyn from her family and Elsa's broken voice.

"Anna!" Elsa chokes. Anna supposes it would have tore her heart in two if adrenaline wasn't clouding her emotions like a magical, merciful blanket. "Are you okay? Please, I beg you, say something." Her voice cracks with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Anna – I didn't have enough warning to stop myself. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Anna coughs, a faint spray of blood spattering her lips and chin. "You never do." She rasps. It's suppose to be reassurance that Elsa's never harmed her on purpose and that she forgives her, but her current state doesn't allow her to get the message across properly. Like saying, 'I love you anyway' after the recipient just destroyed a thousand dollar painting.

Only Anna doesn't realize something is wrong until Elsa abruptly stiffens beside her. Anna's vision has cleared enough to see Elsa's face recover from wounded shock to something much more harsh.

"Elsa?" Anna questions, sending painful shivers into her lungs. She coughs again, hoarsely this time. A light dusting of blood covers her face, the collar of her formal tunic and the cuff of Elsa's formal tunic. Wincing, Anna forces herself up on an elbow, her other hand still clamped tightly on her side. Her ribs flare angrily at the movement, but the adrenaline helps pacify the worst of the agony. "Elsa, what's—"

Elsa abruptly stands, cutting Anna off. The princess-consort looks up at the queen in confusion. Why is she pulling away?

Elsa unlocks Phillip's boots from the ice—after which he hastily scrambles away from her—and she fixes him with a ruthless, unwavering stare.

"I'm leaving." She says, her voice clipped and unforgiving. "Your kingdom is to never contact mine again. All trade and diplomatic relations are henceforth revoked." Anna's blood runs cold. Two different realizations hit her at once—her error and Elsa's plans—and neither is any more comforting than the other.

The entire time it takes for Elsa to get to the door is what Anna requires to painstakingly push to a knee. Gritting her teeth through the mind numbing pain, Anna shouts as loud as she can without jolting her ribs to the point of passing out.

"Elsa, wait! You misunderstood me! I—"

Elsa's hand clenches on the door knob and the entirety of the large double doors shatter into thousands of icy pieces.

"That seems to be happening a lot lately." Elsa snarls, throwing the—now useless—knob to the ground. She doesn't turn around to face the room. To face Anna. "It's very clear where your loyalties lay, Anna. I won't get in the way of them anymore." She starts walking away.

"No!" Anna screams, ignoring the black fraying around her vision at the action as Elsa gets further and further away from her. "I was forgiving you! It wasn't your fault! For fuck's sake, Elsa, _I love you!_ I need you more than anything! Please _come back!_ "

Her harsh breathing is all she can hear in the dead silence of the room, everyone still locked in total shock from everything that just transpired. With a sob that turns into a raging hacking fit that splatters more of her life fluid everywhere, Anna glances to the shell-shocked king, staring wide-eyed at the shattered remains of the double entry doors.

While her mourning side is hampered by the rush of liquid suppressant hormones flooding her system, it doesn't stop the blinding rage that rears its head at the sight of the horrid man. She's still in fight mode, after all – her body has no need to repress something that won't compromise her survival skills.

What surprises her, however, _really surprises her_ , is a violent urge that rides along with it – one she hasn't felt in well over three years. One she hasn't been able to access; one she never wanted to access again, but is suddenly glad she has.

With the return of her will to murder others in cold blood, she'll be able to survive without Elsa; because with this ability she can enact justice and lose her mind in the process. It'll make it so much easier to forget once she's passed the threshold of insanity.

Her ribs flare in protest, as if reading her thoughts.

_I'll bide my time_. Anna promises, a crude sneer taking over her lips as doctors and guards finally rush into the room – where the hell were they when they were needed, anyway? _I'll bide my time and then I'll make sure Pryne pays their long past dues; starting with Phillip and his children_. A cruel glint shines in her eyes, something Arwyn doesn't fail to notice.

Her heart turns to ice as she wonders if Anna losing Elsa means she loses the woman she married; the woman she loves. Although she wants to believe otherwise, that gleam in Anna's eye tells her a completely different story. The blood drains from Arwyn's face.

_Father, what have you done?_


	6. The Final Gladiator Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make a precise temperature reference in this chapter. It's in Celsius.

The Final Gladiator Match

Reference Outline: Chapter 4, Paragraphs 10 and 11

Anna bolts out of her seat—her ribs crying out from the action—with her eyes as wide as saucers. "Elsa?" She blurts in shock, even though the mystery knight's platinum hair leads everyone else to the same conclusion. The royal booth and the stands fall into chaos, the outcry nearly deafening. Anna pushes her way to the front of the booth, ignoring the sickening agony from her broken bones that makes her want to puke.

Elsa rolls her neck, her helm laying on the ground several feet away, with murder in her eyes. The other gladiator is reeling away, no doubt horrified by the premature reveal of his opponent. A feral snarl curls on Elsa's lips and she spits, a minute amount of blood mixed in with it.

Just like that, the lull in action ends.

With a bellowing war cry, Elsa charges forward with unbridled might and a promise of death glinting in her eyes. She duel welds her medium-length swords—one severed in half—with deadly accuracy and with enough force to slice through bone. Her opponent stumbles back in fear, barely able to keep up his defences.

Within seconds of the assault the other gladiator's already fractured shield cracks and splits down the middle, rendering it useless. He tries to take Elsa off guard by swinging an attack at her broken shoulder plate, but the queen spins to the side and slashes, almost slicing off the man's sword arm at the elbow. She would have cut it clean off had his armour not prevented it.

The man drops his sword and crashes to his knees with a blood curdling scream. Elsa raises her broken sword, readying to bring down the serrated edge into the meat of his neck—

"Yield!" The gladiator shouts, his fear making tears mist in his eyes and his body tremble. Although the latter could also be from pain. "I yield!" He yells again, weaker. It sounds more like a whimper.

Without ceremony and without waiting on Phillip's 'can he live or not' order, Elsa throws her swords into the sand and marches towards the royal booth. Her eyes are narrowed in fury and her fists clenched in rage, but the temperature remains the same. Anna doesn't want to imagine how much willpower that must take, nor does she want to know what would happen should her control break. Not because it horrifies her, oh no – because she doesn't want to be disappointed by gore that doesn't happen.

Elsa stops a few meters in front of the royal booth. Anna watches her with sick fascination, one hand gently cradling her ribs.

"I win!" Elsa bellows, loud enough for the entire stadium to hear. "Now grant me my one wish and give me Anna!" The crowd—and the royals—ripple in uproar. Anna blinks, genuinely taken by surprise. After everything, her former fiancée still wants her? Did Elsa finally take to heart what she said in the dining hall?

Do they still have a chance?

The thought is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once.

Phillip grits his teeth, his eyes shining with restrained ire. "I think not." A gasp of surprise rises in the crowd. "You entered this contest illegally, and are hereby disqualified!"

"Disqualified?" Elsa roars, her expression as feral as a rabid dog. "I followed all of your rules to the fucking letter!"

"We have absolutely no proof that you didn't use your powers to cheat!" Phillip shouts back, just as heated.

In a split second, the temperature goes from unbearably hot to scarcely above zero – hovering the freezing mark just enough to not cause the creation of frost.

"I played fair and square so there'd be no possible way to despite my winning claim." Elsa snarls, venom dripping from her words. "If I had used my powers you would know, just like you know now. I should smite you where you stand for calling the Queen of Arendelle a liar and a cheat, but I won't." Her eyes darken dangerously. "If you deny me what is mine, however, I will spear your head on a pike and declare war on Pryne!" The crowd cries out in despair, as do some of the royals. Phillip grinds his teeth.

"Anna would never forgive you for slaughtering innocent people!" He barks.

Anna's not sure if it's her newfound thirst for blood or her simply getting fed up with being unhappy, but a wave of rectitude crashes through her with such intensity she's left trembling. Fuck dirty politics. Fuck her unfair obligations. Fuck Pryne. She's through with putting Elsa and her happiness second.

"Fuck you!" Anna seethes, whirling on the king before Elsa has the chance to respond. Her ribs throb in angry protest, but they can suck it; there are more important things to worry about. "I don't give a flying fuck if Elsa tortures you for years and gets off on your howls of pain every night. You have been nothing but cruel, insensitive and manipulative since the moment I got here, and I have had _enough!_ " Phillip blinks in surprise.

"Anna—" Arwyn starts, but Anna isn't finished.

"Don't you fucking 'Anna' me!" Anna rages, shooting her wife a sizzling glare from over her shoulder. Arwyn shrinks back with a wince. She turns her attention back to the king. "I have tried to be patient; I have tried to be understanding and I have tried giving this kingdom the benefit of the doubt but I can't take it anymore. You ripped me away from my home, my friends and my loved ones and expected me to survive without any contact from them whatsoever. You denied me access to my own damn ship and you all but locked me in the goddamn castle because you didn't want me running away, and I'm sick of it! I can't live like this anymore, and if getting out means helping Elsa rip out your goddamn innards than I'm more than fucking willing to do it!"

Anna breathes in angry huffs, steam rising from her heated skin in ominous waves. The arena is quiet. Everyone stares at her. Elsa blinks, giving her a look between gratitude and despair. Anna doesn't notice anything other than Phillip's fearful eyes and her own throbbing side. She doesn't notice the ice solidifying over the clothed areas of her body in the shape of her Arendelle commander armour; nor does she notice the sword forming in her hand until she spins on an approaching guard and slices off his arm with a cringe worthy _crunch_.

Anna glances at the bloodied sword in her gloved hand and gives Elsa a thankful yet stern nod, one Elsa returns, before turning back to the king.

"So here's how it's going to be." Anna snarls, taking a menacing step forward. Phillip takes a step back. Thayne jumps in front of the monarch, his sword clutched in a two handed grip in front of him before Anna can finish what she was going to say. The sight of the man who lead the almost-siege on Iloa and, in turn, forced her hand on marrying Arwyn is anything but welcome.

"I don't think anyone invited you." Anna sneers, a sword forming in her other hand. She doesn't notice Elsa walking up a set of icy steps and standing beside her outside the booth, a firm deck of ice beneath her feet.

"Who is this?" Elsa rumbles, icy armour forming over her worse-for-wear armour with a sword appearing in either hand. Anna glances at the woman from the corner of her eye, not wanting to give away her surprise at her sudden appearance. With a smirk, Anna turns her sights back to the fully armed officer.

"Meet fleet admiral Thayne." Anna says, sick amusement filtering into her voice. "He was the commander of the Prynian navy who threatened Iloa fifteen months ago."

Elsa's severe eyes snap to the man and narrow, a growl thundering in the back of her throat. Anna sees Thayne's eyes flash with fear from under his helm, and a demented smile twists over her lips as a result.

"Should I kill him?" Elsa asks, her ice crackling around her. Anna chortles. It doesn't quite have a sane ring to it.

"No, I think we should take him home with us so we can _play_." She says, her eyes darkening. A slow, manic smirk spreads over Elsa's lips. In the blink of an eye, Thayne is pinned face down on the ground, legs bound together and hands bound behind his back. Anna throws back her head, barking a laugh that borders on insanity.

"Anna?" A voice all but whimpers behind her.

"What?" Anna snaps, whirling on the speaker. Arwyn winces. Anna's eyebrows fall into an unamused line. "Piss off." She growls, going to turn back around, but Arwyn steels herself.

"This isn't you, Anna." She gasps, suddenly feeling herself trapped in ice with a spike dangerously close to her throat. She sees Elsa's sharp blue eyes glaring at her before the damaged teal of her wife's turn to glare at her, as well. "I know you're angry. I know you hate it here. I know you hate Phillip and what's he's done to you but can you honestly live with what you'll become if you go through with this?" Anna's eyes narrow. Arwyn swallows thickly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you needed. Damn it, _I'm sorry_ our marriage was the only way to secure peace.

"I know peace is still what you want." Arwyn continues, forcing her eyes to stay dry. "If you kill Phillip or any of his children you will have no choice but to wipe this kingdom off the map. Yes you'll be free of Pryne, but who will you become as a result? You can still fix this, Anna – Pryne is in absolutely no position to deny Arendelle anything. We know our only options are to live by giving you everything you want or die. So please, I beg you, demand the things that grant our kingdoms' peace instead of staining your hands with blood."

A small flicker of sanity flutters into Anna's mind, and it makes her frown. She glances to Elsa who, despite her inclinations, is clenching her jaw in reluctant acceptance. The queen turns her sights on the red head.

"What do you want to do?" She asks. Anna starts, not expecting that responsibility to land itself at her feet. Then, after a moment of consideration, she wonders . . . what _does_ she want?

"I want to go home." She breathes. Her eyes flicker to Arwyn. "But I want peace, too."

Elsa's jaw muscles bulge and twitch angrily, but she doesn't refute the younger's desire. She turns to the king. "I'm going to write up a treaty and you're going to sign it." She says, brokering no room for argument. "You're going to agree to abolish your offensive military. You're going to agree with becoming a neutral and strictly defence only kingdom. You're going to agree to answer to Arendelle for any major changes within your borders. You're going to agree to report to Arendelle with any military issues, whether it's yours or an opposing one, and agree to submit to our instruction." She steps over Thayne and towers over the cowering king, a snarl on her lips. "You fucked with the wrong royals, Prathian, and now you'll pay the price. Now you get to choose . . . will that price be under my conditions, or will it be in death?"

"I agree to fully submit on your terms under the condition that Arwyn goes with you." Phillip says, his voice surprisingly stable despite his shaking body. Elsa narrows her eyes. "To keep up at least the illusion of maintained relations, at least." He squeaks.

"Fine." Elsa says, shocking Anna. She gestures to the exit of the booth. "Shall we go finish up business?"

"Yes, your majesty." Phillip says, the address sounding as if it physically caused him pain to say. He starts leading the way. Elsa jumps over the side of the booth and follows, close behind.

Anna goes to tag along, but pauses. She glances back to Arwyn, now being released from the ice that held her captive. Their eyes lock and, despite all the differences between them in that moment, they both know Elsa is going to kill her the moment they're out of Pryne's borders.

In that moment, Anna can't quite bring herself to care.

She turns heel and jogs—ignoring her protesting ribs—to catch up with the monarchs, leaving a devastated Arwyn in her wake.

What had she ever done to Anna to deserve this?

Tears well in Arwyn's eyes and she sinks to her knees, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. All she has ever tried to do is make Anna's life easier. She never forced the young princess to do anything she didn't want to do. She has protected Anna from her devious family, sometimes at the cost of her own reputation. Has her kindness won her no loyalty, no respect? A sob rips past her throat.

She's going to die knowing Anna doesn't care.

"Arwyn?" A hoarse voice croaks. She glances up, and sees Thayne pushing himself up to his knees. He was obviously released from the ice when she was.

Arwyn's not sure if it's the emotional pain, the unfairness of the situation or her need to get out of her head, but she soon finds herself on top of Thayne, straddling his armoured waist. She rips off his helm and starts wailing on him, not caring about the blood or the sounds of breaking bones or the shouts of alarm around her.

If Thayne had been more reasonable, if he hadn't sent men to attack Anna and left her temporarily disabled, if he hadn't chosen that other officer that killed the Iloian king, if he'd just reacted fast enough when the knife was thrown _none of this would have happened_. It's all his fault.

It's unreasonable, she knows that. She knows that even as she struggles against her siblings trying to yank her off the fleet admiral, but she can't bring herself to fully register it. Part of her doesn't want to, because by blaming Thayne she's distracting herself from a much more dire situation.

She's going to die because of the faults of other people, and there's not a damn thing she can do about it.


	7. High Tensions and Verbal Spats

High Tensions and Verbal Spats

Reference Outline: Chapter 6, Paragraphs 1 through 3

Elsa grits her teeth as she sits through the council meeting, not that she's really paying attention.

It's been a full week since her return from the mountain and she's made no progress in killing Arwyn. The half-royal was suppose to die by her hand the first night after sailing away from Pryne, but Anna had regained whatever morals she'd lost earlier that day and stopped her. She even had the audacity of banning Elsa from the _Royal Grace_ —forcing back to her own ice ship—to keep the little bitch safe. While Elsa loves Anna for being a good person, her noble disposition sometimes makes the queen want to punch her in the face.

Upon arrival in Arendelle Elsa had been too exhausted to fight the redhead and immediately went for her regular three day fight-til-you-drop session up at her ice castle. In retrospect, it wasn't one of her best ideas. Instead of it giving Anna time to detach herself from her wife—Elsa nearly growls out loud at the word—it gave the girl time to set up a protection plan. Elsa's not sure how she did it or exactly how many people are involved, but it's enough to keep their queen at bay. If she didn't love her country so much, she probably would have terrorized the staff to back off at ice point and well placed crotch shots.

"What do you think, your majesty?" One of the council members asks, pulling her from her thoughts. Elsa gives a noncommittal grunt in response. The man frowns and casts his helpless sights to Anna, of whom started attending these meetings almost immediately after her return.

While the princess-consort—Elsa swallows a snarl at the term—answers the noble, Elsa lets her hardened gaze flick to the woman.

What if Anna and Arwyn are plotting against her, slowly taking over her duties by convincing the nobility she's incompetent or unstable to throw her out of power? She admits she isn't in the best of positions in the matter, considering her temperament, but she is damn good at what she does and the people know that. Even then, the country might prefer a charismatic leader over a dead husk. If it meant just Anna moving up Elsa probably wouldn't detest the idea so much—it's Anna, after all—but knowing Arwyn would rise with her . . .

An unbidden growl rips past her throat, silencing the current debate. Everyone turns to her, their gazes questioning. Anna's stare is the only one partly narrowed in suspicion. She always has known the queen better than anyone else.

"Everybody out." Elsa snarls. Eyes widen in shock. Several open their mouth to dispute, but Elsa rigidly points to the door. "I said _out!_ " She shouts. She gestures vaguely to the sheets in front of them. "Leave your agendas and notes with Kai and get out of my sight." Her hand locks harshly around Anna's wrist as the girl stands. "You're staying." She rumbles. The council members send the redhead pitying, anxious looks as they leave. Elsa doesn't blame them.

As the door shut, Anna coaxes her arm impatiently out of Elsa's grip and takes a step away. She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Was that necessary?" She scolds, her lip upturned in distaste. "I know everything is a little fucked up right now but that is no excuse to make your kingdom suffer for it. You have issues with me? Fine, let's talk about it; but _damn it_ , don't fucking do it on this country's time!"

Elsa wants to say that she used to do this fairly often during the period Anna was away, but thinks better of it. Something tells her that admitting she sometimes didn't have the patience for her council's bickering and therefore asked for the reports to stay and the people to leave wouldn't help her case. Or her mood, for that matter. The council knows the drill, damn it, and she doesn't need to justify that to Anna. It's Elsa's country, not hers, so she has no right to interfere.

When did she get so vindictive towards her adopted sibling?

 _Probably after the third day of her saving her wife's worthless ass_. Her mind helpfully supplies. She wants to stab it.

"I don't know what strings you've pulled to keep your little pet safe,"—Elsa says instead, ignoring Anna's little rant—"but her blood belongs to me." Anna blinks at the topic change. Elsa continues, still not turning to face the woman. "Mark my words, Anna – Arwyn _will_ be eliminated, and I don't care by what means or how much it will hurt you." She turns her head, locking her hostile gaze with the redhead's startled one. "Your humanity may not allow you to do what needs to be done in good conscience, but mine holds no such inhibitions. Now, I don't want to hurt you, but if you or your lackeys continue to get in my way, I won't hesitate to remove them."

Without further comment, Elsa pushes back her chair and exits the room, leaving a flabbergasted Anna in her wake.

 _It's better this way_. Elsa's brain reasons as she strides through the halls. Let the consequences of removing the kingdom's fragile Prynian tie fall on her shoulders and hers alone. Her sanity's not worth saving, anyway. And if her actions call for her death? So be it. It's not like she was living much to begin with.

* * *

 

Elsa's sitting at the desk in her study, reading over documents and the council members' paperwork from today's morning meeting. Despite her words to Anna at the end of it—all but shouting to the heavens that she wants to rip Arwyn's throat out—she admits that Anna was right; the kingdom comes first. Not that she ever thought otherwise. When all else failed during those horrid fifteen months, Elsa would treat the kingdom as if it were Anna; so while the people fear her, they know she does good by them.

In lieu of the expectations, her time secluded in piles of parchment is calm and tranquil. The black of the ink on the endless documents makes the world fall away; makes everything . . . simpler. It makes it easy for her personal problems to fade into the background and become less significant. It makes her heart hurt less.

A knock on the door disturbs that peace.

Taking in a giant breath to keep herself from screaming and letting it out in a steady stream, she calls; "Come in." She doesn't lift her eyes from the current law reform in her hands, hoping beyond all hope to retain some of her earlier serenity. She waves absently at the chairs in front of her. "You may take a seat."

"I'd rather remain standing, if you don't mind." The woman says, ignoring her title. Gerta. Elsa raises an eyebrow, but she refuses to raise her eyes from the text.

"Suit yourself." She murmurs, signing the bottom and setting the parchment to the side to dry. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" She asks, pulling another document in front of her. An expenses report.

"I heard what you said to Anna in the council room this morning." Gerta says, getting straight to business. Elsa hums.

"Hasn't everyone by this point?" She asks, eying a particularly unpleasing number with pursed lips. Gerta blinks.

"How do you mean?" She questions slowly, carefully. Elsa barely resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"Since everyone seems content conspiring against me, I was under the impression everyone in the castle would know anything of any significance—or even lack thereof—within the hour. Or was that too presumptuous of me?" A rhetorical question. She glances at the balance at the bottom of the report. She makes a little note beneath it and sets it aside for later. She reaches for a new document. "If you've come to scold me or re-direct my focus to a less self-destructive path I can assure you that you're efforts will be in vein." She gestures a vague 'go ahead' motion, absent mindedly reading over the previous month's crop yield. "You're more than willing to try if it so pleases you, however, so let me have it." Gerta does just that.

"Our kingdom is not held in high favour with many others thanks to your aggressive defence laws and border-line hostility in conducting trade." She starts, placing her hands on her hips. It's not a diva action, merely one done for personal comfort. "We haven't received reports yet, but I'm sure our standing has been kicked even lower thanks to your stunt in Pryne. The only true allies we have other than our sister nation and the Southern Isles is Iloa, and even those three are getting wary. You're a loose cannon and no one knows who you're going to fire against next. The problem is that, if you actually do fire, you'll lose support from our other, more tentative allies.

"They may not rally to Pryne's cry,"—Gerta continues—"but they certainly won't come to yours, either. You might say defences aren't an issue and we don't really need them but you have to realize that, while that's true, you've lost the trust of entire nations, and that's not so easily won back. Hell, some of your tentative allies only became allies after the Iloa-Arendelle war out of threats and necessity. They've come to trust you since then, but you can lose it just as easily if you're not careful.

"An example of not being careful would be _killing Arwyn_." She emphasizes, catching the other half of Elsa's split attention. She doesn't look up, but she's no longer reading the farming report. Gerta keeps speaking, not missing a beat. "Whether you believe it or not, Arwyn has become a symbol. She embodies if you're willing to play nice or if you're willing to sacrifice anything and everything to get what you want. Arendelle's reputation will be forever tarnished if you go through with your plans of exterminating the Prynian half royal and, it may not be immediate, but eventually our economy will suffer. Your people will suffer. Anna will suffer."

Gerta watches as Elsa absently puts the quill back in the inkwell. She waits for the queen to look up, but she never does. Gerta sighs softly.

"There are no pros to your plan of offing her." The plump woman says, softly. "Anna's sense of right and wrong would ever allow her to forgive you for the transgression, and where does that leave you? Everyone will pay the price, and you won't even be able to say you got Anna back because of it. Is that what you want?"

With a quiet exhale, Elsa runs her hand through her bangs. She raises her head, but instead of seeing the understanding Gerta desperately wished to see, all she's met with is apologetic regret.

"I understand what you're saying." Elsa says, her voice uncharacteristically exposed. "Really, I do, but I've had to spend far too much time waiting with seemingly no solution in sight for far too long. I can't do it anymore – I'm already fraying at the edges; I have been for a long time. Neither my body or my mind can handle the strain of another waiting period – I'll go insane before I get anywhere near the finish line. So I'm sorry—truly, I am—but I'm going to do this my way without regard to how right or wrong it might be." She shrugs weakly. "I'm not saying I won't listen if you're able to give me another solution before Arwyn is a mere hunk of lifeless meat, because I will, but she will remain in my sights in the meantime. I won't hold back just because a better option _might_ show itself, so tell Anna and her little gang to come up with something quick, because her _wife_ ,"—she spits the word—"doesn't have much time left."

Elsa glances to the grandfather clock at the side of the room. "Tick tock, tick tock." She breathes. It's an eerie sound. She flicks her eyes back to her adviser. "She's on borrowed time, Gerta, so you better go warn her soon . . . or she won't have time to jump ship before I run her through."


	8. Soft Awakenings

Soft Awakenings

Reference Outline: Chapter 6 Paragraph 7 & Ending A/N Paragraph 1

It's the strange mix of the unfamiliar scent of redwood and vanilla mixed with the familiar scent of lilacs and a summer breeze that calls Elsa awake. The latter smell is comforting, the former is . . . odd. She doesn't have a picture in her head to go along with it, but it brings out the feelings of mild distaste.

With a frown, Elsa notes that the strange blend is lolling her back into a sleepy stupor. She can barely remember the last time that she felt willing to fall asleep without the aid of exhaustion. If her hazy brain can recall, the last time was—

Elsa's shoulders stiffen.

—Last night. The remnants of her ungodly night terrors still sting in her chest like a swirl of darkness waiting to whisper cruelties in her ear.

That, however, brings up a disquieting question of its own. Why is the feeling subdued? She should have woken up in a frightful mess of wails and tears, then been forced to continue on with her queenly duties with the thick, malevolent sludge weighting heavily in her chest. She should be on the verge of a mental breakdown. She should be clawing at her skull and ripping out her hair in vain attempts to make the feeling, the images, go away. She should be . . . well, she _should_ be doing a lot of things but, after a quick self assessment, she's shocked to find nothing but the lingering trickle telling her that yes, last night's night terrors actually did happen.

_So why aren't I clawing out my own eyes?_ Elsa wonders. She pauses. _And why didn't I throw a fit waking up now?_

It's a valid question. If her night terrors hadn't waken her completely the first time, there's absolutely no reason why they wouldn't have at a later point.

Figuring out the answer, she realizes, is probably as simple as opening her eyes and assessing her surroundings. If her office looks like a tornado hit it, the chances are that she went habitually to work away the pain and failed. If she's in the middle of the forest, she probably tried running away from her problems. If she's at her ice castle, she likely fled to fight the pain away. While all plausible, Elsa finds it strange that she remained unconscious for the entire affair.

Someone grunts softly and shifts behind her. Elsa stiffens. Whomever they are, they have their nose buried in the crook of Elsa's neck, and they're spooning her with a gentle arm around her stomach.

_Fucking weird_. Elsa thinks, caught between leaving, punching them in the face and freezing them solid. She hasn't had anyone in her bed since— Elsa's brain stutters to a halt, her waking brain finally making the connection of what the summer breeze and lilacs mix actually means.

That didn't explain the redwood and vanilla, however. They were never smells that Elsa had ever associated with her adopted sibling. That either means the maids found her screaming and kept her company with a blanket that smelled of Anna, Anna found her and kept her company in a blanket that smelled of someone else, or—

In response to the person shifting behind her, the person in front of her—who Elsa realizes in terror that she's clutching like a lifeline—airs a sound of protest.

—Or Anna pulled Elsa in from the hallway and made her share a bed with the Prynian. Lovely.

It's such a strange predicament that Elsa doesn't exactly know how to respond to it.

_I suppose I could start by opening my eyes_. She thinks tentatively, doing just that. The sight that greets her isn't exactly a pleasant one, but it's not exactly unwelcome, either.

In the dull just-before-sunrise light, she can see Arwyn sleeping contently against her chest. Not that the commodore had a choice, if Elsa's death grip is anything to go by. With a wince, Elsa loosens her hold.

Her legs are in a tangle of limbs from two other pairs, so she doesn't even try to sort out whose are whose. The arms, however, are a lot easier to figure out. Anna only has one arm around her—the other probably snuggled under her own pillow—while Arwyn has one arm draped lazily over her torso and—presumably—Anna's, and her other arm is trapped between herself and Elsa, making her ensnared hand rest on the queen's shoulder.

With a terrifying start, Elsa realizes that she doesn't actually mind the position she finds herself. She blames it on her happy, well rested brain. Stupid thing now associates these two with peaceful nights. She better kick that feeling in the nuts.

Raising one of her hands and resting it on the side of Arwyn's head, Elsa tries her best to squash the sickening feeling in her gut so she can send a spike through the woman's skull. She wants to, the gods _know_ she wants to, but she can't. Not because she's thinking better of her decision to wipe Arwyn off the map, but because of her human need to repay kindness.

Arwyn had stayed and comforted her—although her prior grip tells her that Arwyn might not have had a choice in the matter—even though she knows Elsa is gunning for her head. She could have left the moment Anna chose to help the suffering queen outside her door. Hell, she could have kicked the monarch out of spite and went somewhere else for the night without Elsa being any the wiser, but she didn't.

Damn it. She must be regaining her Anna complex.

With a groan, Elsa pulls away her hand and runs it through her own hair instead, trying to convince herself that she's only not killing the Prathian half royal because she doesn't want to permanently damage Anna's bed . . . or Anna's mental state about her room. Heavens know one mentally unstable nut job running around the castle is enough.

So, Elsa's gives Arwyn a free pass – _for now_ ; Arwyn's head will still roll quicker than the bitch can sneeze. She detangles herself from the couple. The reminder that the two are married makes Elsa sick to her stomach, and she forces herself to leave the room without looking back. If she doesn't trust herself to not rip the woman's throat out if she did.

In not looking back, Elsa misses the affectionate smile that spreads over Anna's—very much conscious—lips. In her effort not to focus on anything in her hurry out, she also messes the satisfactory grins on May and Lila's ice armoured maws and the happy glint sparkling in their snowy eyes.

What she doesn't miss, however, is the shit-eating grin on the _Royal Grace_ 's snowy helmsmen, Moira, who leans against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. Elsa gives her a strange look.

"What are you doing away from the ship?" She asks, slowly. She neglects to add; 'and looking at me like I just got lucky.' Moira merely shrugs, her broad, ice armoured shoulders bouncing.

"Just wanted to confirm a feeling."

Elsa frowns. "What feeling is that?" She knows her creations are connected to her and that they can pick up her emotional state—that's what her magic is linked to, after all, so it makes sense—she's just unsure of _what_ emotion the golem's referring to. With the strange events over the last couple of hours, it could be any number of things.

Moira's snowy, ice armoured jaw loosens, and her grin dissolves into a gentle, caring smile. "That you were content." She gives another, more subdued shrug. "You were happy, too, if only for a moment. It's been a long time since I've felt something like that from you."

Elsa stares. She doesn't know what else to do. She's at a complete and utter lack for words. How do you honestly respond to one of your creations telling you they're glad you're not miserable for once? Elsa certainly doesn't.

"How are the golems you released from the _Royal Grace_ 's hull? I can't imagine it was easy holing themselves up for fifteen months." She says instead, curbing the conversation away from herself.

Moira chuckles. "They're fine. They went into something akin to hibernation, so they slept most of that time away. I woke them up when we docked last week. The extra crew were all assigned positions in the guard and, as far as I know, were sent to work the same day. I imagine they were ecstatic to be able to do something again."

Elsa cocks her head, only now considering that not all of the _Royal Grace_ 's crew would actually stay as, well, crew. She's not sure why, though; even she had to admit over four hundred snow golems was a little overboard. What can she say? Her over protective side had been in play at the time when she made them.

"Where are you assigned?" Elsa asks, suddenly curious. Moira had been Anna's unofficial protector as well as the ship's captain and navigator. It would be nice to get to know someone who was close to the princess during the months the queen was not.

"Same place I was; captain of a ship no one except Anna uses. It gets quite boring, actually. Sometimes I put my second in charge so I can wonder around a bit, like now." Moira grins. "Although this time I left in excitement, not boredom. It's a nice change."

Two questions cross Elsa's tongue at the same time, and she's not quite sure which to say first. She starts with the most obvious.

"There's no way you got here in the time it took me to get going after I woke up."

A playful glint sparks in the golem's eyes. "It wasn't just this morning when you radiated positive waves."

Elsa forces herself not to grit her teeth. "How long, exactly, have you been waiting here?"

"Couple hours, maybe?" Moira suggests with an uncaring lilt. Obviously her time waiting around has given her no real concern for time. Elsa doesn't blame her – if it wasn't for Kai she'd think it perfectly normal to have the regular council meetings in the dead of night. It's not like it makes a difference in the windowless room.

The corners of Elsa's lips twitch. It's a weird feeling, and she realizes by Moira's widening eyes that it's because they're tilting up instead of down. Smiling without it being twisted with malice is definitely strange, but not something Elsa's oppose to. It actually makes her feel good inside. Fancy that.

"Do you want to remain as captain of the ship?" Elsa asks, voicing her other question. "I can make you a castle guard, if you'd like. I'm sure May and Lila would like the occasional Anna-wrangling help." Moira barks a deep belly laugh. It's a warm sound.

"I don't think the castle would be any better than a ship, but thank you. Maybe I'd like being on rotation to get a change of scenery every now and then, though. I'll let you know when I make up my mind."

"Sure you don't want to do it now while I'm still in a good mood?" Elsa jokes. Moira's eyebrows shoot into her hairline.

Fuck. Even the golem who hasn't seen her in over a year knows her humour has been nonexistent since Anna left for Iloa. Not that Elsa's fairing any better – her heart nearly stuttered and died in shock when she realized something other than sarcasm and condescension flowed out of her mouth.

Moira regains her composure with a caring smile. "I'm sure you'll have many more spurts of good moods to come."

Without explanation, Moira turns heel and leaves. Elsa stares at her retreating back, confused.

_At least someone has confidence in my future_. She thinks, turning and walking the other way. She has documents to tend to, after all.


	9. Talk Out the Pain

Talk Out the Pain

Reference Outline: Chapter 7, Paragraph 3

Anna nearly skips down the hall to Elsa's study, taking joy upon still seeing the mystified looks still lingering on the faces of everyone she passes. Somewhere she notes that it should be sad how shocked the castle is at Elsa being in higher spirits for once, Anna decides to focus on the positive side of the equation; Elsa's happiness.

The young royal stops in front of Elsa's study and poses her hand to knock, when a sound makes her pause. Tilting her head and perking her ears, Anna leans towards the door to better determine the source. She listens for a moment before a grin breaks over her lips. Elsa's humming. When was the last time she did that? It's not a question Anna's equipped to give a definite answer, but she's sure she can make a fairly accurate guess.

Leaning back, grin still splitting her face, Anna raps her knuckles against the wood in her signature jingle she hasn't used since before she left Arendelle for Iloa. The humming halts.

"Come in." Elsa says, her voice content.

Anna enters and closes the door behind her. She sends the elder an affectionate smile. Elsa surprises her with by giving a slight one—barely a twitch on the lips—in return.

"I see you're looking happier." Anna says warmly, settling on the armrest on one of the chairs in front of Elsa's desk. "It suits you." The queen huffs a vaguely amused laugh, but there's an edge to it.

"I don't think anyone is outfitted to look good in whatever hole I dug for myself." Elsa says, her eyebrows furrowing and a frown creasing her lips. It's a subtle change, but Anna knows just how deep that statement runs. It's hard not to after she witnessed Elsa fly off her rocker first hand. Hell, the circumstances even had Anna experiencing her own moral plunge and she knows how heavily that affected her . . . and that only lasted a few hours, not days.

Anna hums thoughtfully. "Perhaps." She allows. "But even while you let that darkness define you, you never really let it take over." Elsa eyes Anna warily.

"I would have murdered Phillip had you not jumped in front of him, I was fully prepared to lay Pryne to waste and I'm actively trying to kill your wife. How, exactly, does that translate into not letting the darkness take over?"

The redhead smiles kindly. "Arwyn's still alive this morning, isn't she?" Elsa frowns at the reminder.

"Her actions gave her a temporary pardon,"—she says slowly, carefully—"but I haven't given up on getting her out of the picture." Anna shrugs, as if it's an arbitrary matter.

"That's fine." She allows. "It still proves my point. If you truly threw your values to the wind you would have offed her right then and there, no questions asked." Elsa's eyebrows shoot into her hairline.

"'That's fine'?" The monarch questions. "That's one of the last sentiments I expected from you, considering how vehemently you've been fighting for her safety." Anna crosses an ankle over her knee, the barest hint of a frown tugging on her lips.

"Believe it or not, I've been searching for a way out of our union with just as much gusto you've been putting into your self appointed assassin order. The difference is that I care about her too much to approve of your solution." At Elsa's look, the princess consort raises an incredulous eyebrow. "Don't contemn my Anna Complex when it was the exact same—and only—thing that keep me coming back to your locked door all those years ago." Elsa winces. Anna sighs softly through her nose. "Arwyn's done a lot for me out of the kindness of her heart, never expecting anything from me in return. She deserves more than a sword through the neck. I think you believe that too, somewhere, but I think it's coming from that little voice you stopped listening to because it was too kind . . . and ended with you getting hurt."

Elsa eyes Anna cautiously. "How—"

"I know you." Anna interrupts. She drums her fingers on her thighs. "I know you better than you do, sometimes." A hazy look shadows her eyes, memories ghosting to the forefront of her mind. She shakes her head softly, chasing the past away. "That and I have the same voice." She continues. "It's the one that convinces me that being a good person and doing good by those who deserve it is the right thing to do. It's gotten me hurt a lot, like when . . ." She stops herself before mentioning her botching the peace negotiation between Iloa and Pryne, leading to her marriage. She swallows thickly. "But I suppose it's in my nature to be optimistic and kind, almost to a stubborn fault. The only time I lost that, I _truly_ lost that—" Anna's voice falters. She clears her throat. A sadness creeps into Elsa's eyes, but she doesn't interrupt.

"The only time I lost that,"—Anna continues, an emotional waver threatening to crack her speech at any moment—"was when I thought I lost you for good." Tears well in her eyes. "I remember emotionally shutting down and letting my primal urge for revenge take over me completely. I didn't just have the desire to slaughter all those I blamed in cold blood, I _wanted_ to kill them and I _wanted_ others to try to stop me so there'd be more people for me to cut down. I've _never_ wanted that before, not even during the Iloa-Arendelle war and that's . . . that's frightening." She shakes her head, getting herself back on track. "In the aftermath Arwyn was able to talk sense into me again, but it didn't change the fact that I almost ripped her father limb from limb."

"Anna, I'm sorr—"

"No, I need to say this."

Elsa hesitates but a moment before giving an uncertain nod. Anna's eyes soften, her leaked tears running salt water rivets down her face and dropping from her jaw onto her clothes.

"I lost myself, Elsa." Her voice cracks, and her face twists in pain. "Nothing can ever take back that moment when I snapped, and I will forever be left with the fear that it will happen again, except next time I won't have someone to stop my decent." She locks her blurry gaze with Elsa's. "I may owe Arwyn a lot, but I will never be able to repay her for stopping me from completely becoming something I'm not. It's the reason I kicked you off the _Royal Grace_ when you came to off Arwyn – I saw the same vacant, all-consuming murderous hatred in your eyes that I had myself, if only for a couple hours. I couldn't let you make the same mistake I almost made, not when the mere thought of knowing what I wanted to do made me retch in the aftermath.

"We're good people, Elsa." The redhead frowns, as if to say 'or at least we used to be.' "We've been dragged through a series of tainting situations, and those stains will forever blacken our souls, but I refuse to let either of us lose any more of ourselves." She pauses, taking a moment to consider her next words. "A huge part of us has already disintegrated." She says, slowly, not quite able to meet Elsa's stare. "I, myself, lost enough to allow all my values and beliefs to be tossed into the sea because I didn't want to feel anymore. While I only reached that point a couple weeks ago, I suspect you've been teetering on that edge for a very long time now. Perhaps you've already crossed it prior to your decent in Pryne and Gerta—or someone—pulled you back to your senses.

"But my point,"—Anna continues—"is that there won't be anything left of either of us if we allow our darker instincts rein on even one of our decisions from here on out." She rubs her now mostly-healed ribs subconsciously, lost in the memory of Elsa throwing away her inhibitions at their last meal in Pryne. Elsa winces at the action, but otherwise keeps herself composed.

"I don't want to lose myself." Elsa says, waiting for Anna to blink herself out of her memory before continuing. "But you have to understand that I don't have enough of myself left to support me in another long game of wits and political technicalities. I'm slowly falling apart, and if I don't get you back to keep the remaining pieces in place your eventual solution won't mean a thing." She closes her eyes, not wanting to see the look on Anna's face as she goes on with; "If I'm going crumble either way, I'd rather do it on my own terms rather than leave it up to when my developing insanity reaches fruition."

Anna is quiet a for a long couple of seconds, making Elsa cringe in anticipation. Anna watches the sight with a carefully blank look, contemplating.

"Would you be willing to do it on my terms?" Anna asks.

Elsa stills. Confusion slowly consumes her and she opens her eyes, meeting Anna's gaze.

"I already said I can't handle the political solution you're striving for." Despite her words, there's a question in her tone. She searches Anna's face for a hint of what she's thinking, but she's becoming shockingly—tragically—good at masking her emotions.

"What if I told you I have a probable, semi-happy solution for everyone that we can set into motion sometime later today?"

Elsa freezes, her mind whirling. What solution could Anna have possibly come up with in only ten and a half days that neither of them thought of in the last fifteen—sixteen, now—months? Elsa eyes the younger royal warily.

"I would probably ask you what you mean by semi-happy."

"And if I told you it meant happy for us and hopefully happy for Arwyn?"

Elsa puts her elbows on her desk, interlaces her fingers and rests her chin on top of hands, an eyebrow raised in interest.

"I'm listening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second last chapter, so there's only one more coming your way.


	10. The Alternate to the Alternate

The Alternate to the Alternate

Reference Outline: Chapter 7, Paragraph 6

"So," Anna drags, wringing her hands nervously as she paces. "You think this is going to work?"

Elsa flicks her gaze from Grand Pabbie to Anna. "I think the more pertinent question is whether or not it's safe to even try."

"It's not an issue of the process being safe or not." Pabbie interrupts, his face drawn in concentration. "It's an issue as to whether it's safe to be in contact with this particular reality, or any other reality, for that matter. Interfering with any realities outside of your own is always risky, and you have to pray no one on their side is capable of opening a doorway if they find this world more desirable than their own."

Elsa and Anna share an anxious glance. Arwyn shifts uneasily in her chair.

"You know," Arwyn says, slowly, "I'd be okay with you two being together and using me as a front." She eyes the large patch of empty wall Pabbie works on warily. "I'd rather be a scapegoat than the reason for a clash of universes."

Anna gives the woman an appraising stare before shrugging gently. "It's me we'll be dealing with." She says, as if that eliminates the danger. "How bad could it be?" Elsa gives her an annoyed look.

"Considering how crazy you went when you thought you'd never see me again, even though I was still alive?" Anna stiffens. Elsa's face draws morbidly. "Exactly." The queen says. With a forced sigh, she plops down on the chair opposite Arwyn. "Her Elsa is dead." Elsa continues, thoughtfully. "We don't know what differing circumstances she grew up with, but if it's anything like ours it could have torn her apart. If we don't handle this carefully, it could all blow back in our faces. Hard." Anna swallows and wipes her suddenly clammy hands on her pants.

Lila growls from the doorway, trying to get her owner's attention. Anna glances over. The ice armoured lion tilts her head, a silent question held in her snowy eyes. Anna forces a smile.

"I'll be fine." She says, but she's not sure whether she's trying to convince her protectors or herself. She frowns, and turns to Elsa. "Is Moira around? I'd feel better having her here, just in case. May and Lila are great, but I'd rather not risk having to use them to suppress the other me with their teeth." Elsa twitches a weak, worried smile.

"Funny you should mention that. I have her posted outside the door." Elsa chuckles when Anna blinks in surprise. "I offered her the position of your third protector this morning. She didn't take me up on it right away, but once I let her know of the weird little solution you came up with, she decided to hang around to keep you safe. You want me to call her in?"

"No. Yes. No." Anna frowns, trying to make up her mind. "Yes." Elsa raises an eyebrow.

"You don't sound very sure of yourself."

Ana shuffles from foot to foot nervously. "Can she just . . . remain out there on standby? There are other golems working to ensure no one but Moira can possibly disturb us, right?" Elsa nods. "Okay,"—Anna continues—"then standby unless she feels we're compromised and then she's authorized to— what's so funny?"

"Nothing." Elsa says, a gentle, honest smile on her face. "I just think it's ironic that your request matches my exact instructions I gave to Moira earlier almost word for word."

Anna flushes. "Oh."

"I'm ready." Pabbie says, turning to the group. Elsa and Arwyn sit up needle straight. Anna clenches and unclenches her hands apprehensively. "I have to warn you, however,"—he continues—"that I can only keep the window open for a couple of minutes. If you want any more time than that, I'm going to have to pull the other Anna through into this world."

"That . . . actually sounds safer." Anna says, drawing Elsa's shocked gaze. Anna shrugs. "If she's over here she can't run out or get interrupted, and if she's a crazy kook we can knock her out, wipe her memories and send her back. Done and done."

One second. Two seconds.

Elsa nods. "Very well." Pushing to her feet in preparation for whatever comes, Elsa waves for Pabbie to continue. "Pull her through."

Arwyn stands, reaching for a sword that no longer rests on her hip. She glances down to the empty space with a frown. Elsa glances at her from the corner of her eye.

"Do you have gloves?" She asks. Arwyn looks up, confused, before nodding. "Put them on. I'll summon you some swords if you need them."

Arwyn glances to Anna for guidance, unsure. Anna gives a closed lip smile and, pulling her own gloves out of her pockets, pulls them on with a small nod of encouragement. Arwyn nods back and quickly follows suit. Anna glances at Pabbie, his eyes closed in concentration, and furrows her brows.

"So, when—"

 _Crack_.

Anna starts. She doesn't mean to, but the flash of blinding light accompanied by a sound louder than a close quarters cannon catches all three of them by surprise.

It doesn't help any of their post traumatic stress disorders, either.

Anna blinks sluggishly, barely making out Elsa collapsed on the floor with her hands buried in her hair and Arwyn back in her chair frantically covering her ears with her hands, trying not to hyperventilate. Anna, herself, isn't much better. Fallen to one knee and gasping for breath, she struggles to quiet the horrid events of her past raging behind her eyes.

It's only the sounds of steal on ice and snarling that drag her focus back to the present.

" _Who. Are. You_." A dangerous voice growls, one eerily similar to her own.

Forcing her breath even, Anna lifts her gaze past her two protectors and locks eyes with harsh teal.

Alternate Anna has a severe air about her, one that rings with pressing danger and the promise of death. She wears a green militia uniform with black trim and royal blue accents. Her hair is done up in an elegant bun, in a style much like Anna herself used during Elsa's coronation.

Beside Alt Anna stands Kristoff—how he got dragged through as well is anybody's guess—his blond hair cut military style and his demeanour grim. He, too, wears a militia uniform, but his is royal blue trimmed with black and accented with green. He stares at May and Lila warily, a sword in hand.

"I'd lower your weapons, if I were you." Anna says, forcing the traumatic events of her past to the back of her mind. Alt Anna's eyes harden, a scowl overtaking her lips.

"Listen here—"

"No." A deep voice booms, easily resonating through the room. Alt Anna glances up, a fair portion of blood draining from her face. "I suggest," Moira continues, " _you_ listen and sheath your sword. You can keep the damn weapon for all I care, but if you raise it against the princess again I will cut you down."

Alt Anna frowns. "Princess?" She questions, turning her gaze back to Anna. Anna shrugs.

"Princess-consort to Pryne, technically." She pushes herself shakily for her feet with a hiss, a hand held to her head. "I'd just as well of called the entire marriage off, if I had a choice in the matter."

"Hey!" Arwyn protests, her jaw tight. Seems like she's finally re-gathered her wits. "You know damn well you had a choice in the matter, and you chose me."

"It was either that or war, what the hell did you think I was going to pick?" Anna shoots back, sneering. She doesn't mean to be harsh, but the residual trauma doesn't do much for her sense of reason. "I wouldn't have been able to maintain my sanity long enough to withstand fighting in another war. One was enough." With a heavy sigh, Anna walks backwards until her legs hit the couch, and she flops onto it. She rubs her eyes, suddenly bone-dead tired.

Alt Anna and Kristoff are frowning at her, she knows they are, but she ignores them. After a moment, she hears the sound of sliding metal. Guess they finally put their weapons away.

"Where are we?" Alt Anna asks, a new guarded edge to her tone.

"An alternate universe." Pabbie cuts in, knowing neither of the three women from this world are prepared to speak at length. "In this world Anna saved Elsa with an act of true love – saving her and freezing herself, only to come to life later with Elsa's love." Alt Anna stiffens and her eyes flick rapidly around the room. She backs up a few steps to see around the two humungous lions and, when her gaze lands on Elsa still clutching her head and curled in a ball on the floor, her breath hitches. Pabbie continues without pause.

"After that, word of Elsa's power spread and five military power houses joined forces and attacked Arendelle. Elsa and Anna stayed behind to fight even after all the civilians were evacuated. After six weeks of constant bombardment with no allied aid, they struck a truce with the enemy nations in direct favour to Arendelle. Two years later Anna was sent to negotiate peace between Iloa and Pryne and failed, by no fault of her own. In order to—"

Alt Anna snorts. It's not a pleasant sound, but it's notably distracted. "Yeah, right." She scolds, her distaste obvious.

Anna snarls and pulls her head up. "For your information, I actually did create a peace treaty all the parties were willing to sign. All I needed was _ten more fucking seconds_ and I would have had it. It's not my fault some Prynian _moron_ decided it was a grand 'ol fucking time to murder the Iloian king, so shut the fuck up." It's only now that Anna notes her alternate's attention isn't on herself, but on the platinum blond still recovering on the floor. Anna's eyes soften. "Elsa." She calls, gently. Alt Anna jerks as if she's been slapped.

Pushing to her feet and padding over to Elsa—May and Lila still blocking the alternates from getting into range of them—Anna kneels beside the older woman's shaking form.

"It's alright." She soothes, running her hand through the blond tresses. "The war is over and I'm home. You don't have to fight anymore. I've got you."

"I know." Elsa chokes, trying so hard to rein herself in. "Just . . . just give me a minute, okay?" As if Anna could refuse that strangled request. Sitting beside the downed woman and rubbing her back in soothing circles, Anna glances up to the other her.

"So you're obviously done listening to our history. What of yours?"

Alt Anna's eyes shadow, a pained darkness swirling just below the surface. "I don't want to talk about it." She grits. Anna raises an eyebrow.

"Elsa's dead in your universe." She says bluntly, making Alt Anna stiffen defensively. "That either means you have a completely different history than us, or it's at least partially the same and you couldn't get to her on time to save her." Alt Anna's jaw clenches tightly, guilt tightening her features. Anna's eyebrows shoot into her hairline. She knows that look. Her gaze briefly flickers to Kristoff. ". . . Or it means you chose Kristoff, instead."

Alt Anna roars and pulls out her sword, murder glinting in her eyes. May and Lila bare their teeth. Moira manoeuvres behind her charge, ready to intervene if the situation gets any more out of hand.

"You don't know me!" Alt Anna seethes, ire shining in her eyes and her muscles trembling with rage. Kristoff takes a step forward to calm her down, but Alt Anna whirls on him, sword to his throat. "Don't touch me." She spits. "Don't you _fucking_ touch me. If you even _try_ I will chop off your goddamn hand. Got it?" Kristoff lowers his gaze and takes a submissive step back.

"Yes, your majesty." He mutters.

Guess that relationship ended up well.

_Wait, 'your majesty'?_

Anna blinks in surprise. "You're queen of Arendelle?"

Alt Anna spins on her, pulsing with frenzied wrath. Anna suddenly regrets asking such a stupid question.

"Who the fuck else do you think took the throne after Elsa's head was lobbed off?" She fumes, the unfavourable memory sifting through her. "Hans certainly tried, but I can guarantee you he's been regretting his decision ever since."

 _Oh, Gods; the poor bastard is being tortured_. Anna pales. In this universe, the Southern Isles just had him hung.

"So, in the wake of my death, you decided outright torture and military conquest was the way to go?" Elsa asks, finally pushing up enough to lean against the armchair behind her. Alt Anna stiffens.

"I never said anything about conquests." She says, an uncomfortable frown twitching the edges of her lips. She doesn't deny the torture. Elsa smiles sadly.

"You didn't have to." She says. "I know you—or at least my Anna—well enough to understand that the reckless abandon you exhibit only occurs when you abandon your values in favour of a murderous rampage." Anna winces at the reminder. Alt Anna gives her a look, as if not expecting such a thing from her counterpart. "The only thing," Elsa continues, "that could possibly come of that if you stayed in that state—which you have—is military conquests."

Alt Anna is quiet for a long moment, not quite sure how to respond. Her eyebrows furrow, obviously not liking this line of questions.

"Why am I here?" She finally asks, a fragile edge to her voice that still shows under her harsh tone.

Anna and Elsa share a look, a frown marring their features. Alt Anna watches the exchange, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two at their sudden hesitancy.

"It was a mistake." Elsa finally says, slowly. Ire reignites behind Alt Anna's eyes.

"Like hell it was!" She grinds, grip tightening on her still unsheathed sword. May and Lila eye it viciously. "You want me to believe you pulled me here by accident? Bullshit!"

Anna sighs and pushes to her feet, Elsa close behind her. "That not what she means." She says, hoping to calm at least some of the fire being stoked madly to life inside the other woman. "We did call you on purpose, yes, but the mistake was in hoping . . ." She stops herself, her eyebrows furrowing in distress. Elsa lays a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't worry about it." The blond soothes. "We'll find another way."

Anna rubs her eyes. "And if the only way is the method you've been trying?" Elsa stiffens.

"Then we do it my way." She grits, clenching her teeth. She doesn't like her method anymore; not after seeing what Anna would have become by making the same types of choices.

Alt Anna lowers her sword minutely, a heavy frown marring her lips. "What . . . what are you talking about?"

Anna waves generically around her in aspiration, not seeing a point in hiding their former intentions. They're going to have to get Pabbie to erase the alternates' memory of this world anyway. "Before I got married to Arwyn, I was engaged to Elsa."

Alt Anna's head snaps backwards, her eyes wide with shock. An instant later they harden dangerously. "Don't play me for a fool." She growls, a dark threat of warning in her voice.

Anna's eyebrows raise. "I'm not." She runs her hands on either side of her necklace, pulling the engagement ring Elsa gave her out from underneath her shirt to show it off. "She proposed to me, _badly_ ,"—she shoots Elsa a glower, to which the queen merely shrugs—"before I left to handle the peace negotiations. We still want to be together, but we can't while I'm still married to Arwyn. The political ramifications would be disastrous."

Alt Anna barks a condescending laugh. "You mean more disastrous than marrying your own sister?"

Anna and Elsa blink in surprise.

"You mean Agdar and Idun were able to have children in your universe?" Anna asks, bewildered. For some reason she never considered that.

It's Alt Anna's turn to look confused. "You mean . . . they couldn't in yours?"

Anna shakes her head. "Elsa and I were both adopted from different families. Our blood is as far from each other as it is from the royal line."

Alt Anna lets her sword hang completely, her head tilted curiously. "You're not related?" She confirms, almost as if she can't quite believe it. Anna shakes her head. Alt Anna frowns. "And neither of you are of royal blood?" Elsa twitches a small smile.

"Mom and dad changed the laws to accept adopted children as heirs so long as they were adopted within the first year of their birth and were raised primarily by the monarchs. The last of the Arendale blood line ended with them." Her face shadows over at the memory.

Alt Anna, as uncomfortable with the topic of their parents as the adopted siblings are, clears her throat. "So what, exactly, did you want from me?"

Elsa shakes her head, clearing away the dark thoughts. "We were hoping you'd take Arwyn along with you. If it's an issue of skill, she's a commodore in the Prynian navy." Anna rolls her eyes.

"She loves me, but I don't love her." Anna redirects, scoldingly. Elsa doesn't look the least bit guilty. Anna sighs and turns back to the other her. "I care about Arwyn—a lot, actually—but since my heart's already taken, I can't give her what she wants from me." She shrugs helplessly. "We're not asking you to love her, just give her a chance. If all else fails, Elsa's right – Arwyn's an officer and has fought in a number of wars. Either way she'd be incredibly useful to you."

Alt Anna raises an eyebrow. "Won't Arwyn disappearing without a trace be just as condemning as fucking behind her back?"

Anna grins. "It would be, if we never let her come back."

Alt Anna frowns, confused. Elsa rolls her eyes at the princess's cryptic answer.

"She means that we don't expect you to do this for nothing. If you accept Arwyn into your world—and possibly your life—we'll accept you back into our world whenever we need Arwyn to make a public appearance. Whenever she's here, you're more than welcome to stay and catch up with me, if . . ." Elsa frowns, unsure of herself. "If that's what you want?" She questions. She doesn't want to drag up old wounds the other queen would rather keep buried.

Eyes wide, Alt Anna merely stares at Elsa in wonder. Lifting her free hand shakily and swallowing around the lump on her throat, she asks; "May I?" It's so terribly hopeful Elsa's heart nearly cracks in half. Even after talking all this time, the other universe's Anna still doesn't believe she's real.

With a small, broken smile, Elsa nods. Knowing the shoulder high lions won't move while a sword still dangles in the 'stranger's' hand, Elsa gently pushes passed them – much to their and Moira's disapproval. Alt Anna stares at her with wide, frightened eyes. Her hand trembles terribly, still outstretched but not brave enough to close the distance.

Taking the shaking wrist gently, Elsa steps forward and raises Alt Anna's hand to her cheek. The redhead's eyes widen and she stares at her head as if it were chopped off and abducted. Elsa doesn't blame her.

"It's not your fault, Anna." Elsa says, softly. Alt Anna's breathing goes ragged, tears welling in her eyes – but her eyes stay locked with her hand. "When Hans told me I struck you in the heart—" Elsa sucks in a breath and hisses it out, not liking this memory any more than the ones of war. "I thought I'd killed you." She whispers, tears welling in her eyes. "There was no way of knowing that saving me would save you – and in your universe, maybe it wouldn't have. You can't torture yourself with the 'what if's' because you can't step backwards in time. Trust me, I've checked."

Anna raises an eyebrow at her girlfriend's back. This is her first time hearing that. Not that it's surprising, really; Elsa would have tried anything to get Anna back.

"Maybe," Elsa continues, "you would have died had you saved my life. Maybe choosing Kristoff was the only way you could have lived – and that's alright. I would rather you have lived than I." She winces. "I'm not very good without you. Never have been." She admits. "My powers went out of control in my time locked away in my room, and I very nearly shut down emotionally when I thought I'd never get you back – which would have lead to a lot of deaths, including my own. You did what you had to do, and that's okay – I forgive you."

And that's all it takes. Alt Anna sobs harshly and falls to her knees. Elsa follow her and holds her tight, something the militaristic monarch returns with wild abandon; almost as if afraid Elsa would disappear if she let her go.

"You can send Kristoff back to handle any duties we pulled you from and keep everything running smoothly if you want to stay here a couple of days." Elsa suggests. Alt Anna wails, but nods into the blond's shoulder. Elsa smiles. "Okay." She says. "I'll get a room set up for you until you're ready to go back."

Kristoff clears his throat awkwardly. Alt Anna stiffens at his presence but is too far gone to threaten him into silence.

"How will I contact you if something important comes up?" He asks.

"Is there a Pabbie on your side?" Elsa asks, glances up just in time to see the pain etch across the built man's face.

"Yes, but he . . . he won't talk to me anymore." His voice hitches, and he clears his throat uncomfortably. "It's . . . it's a long story." He whispers, eyes falling to the ground. Pabbie walks up to him and lays a gentle hand on the man's calf, startling him. Pabbie smiles gently, pityingly.

"I can guarantee he felt the magic I used to pull you two through to this world, and he'll feel it when I push you back. If nothing else, he'll allow you an audience to understand the incident. Does that mean he'll help you? Not necessarily. In all likelihood he'll open a mirror to talk to me to get my insight of why I did what I did and I'll try my best to get him to understand, but it's ultimately his decision."

Kristoff twitches a smile, broken smile. "Thank you. That . . . that'd be enough, for me." His smile fades, and tears well in his eyes. "I miss being able to go home. They put up a barrier, you know, to protect themselves from Anna's forces."

"They'll let you through, if only once." Pabbie assures. Kristoff tries to smile gratefully, but it comes out as more of a pained grimace instead.

Arwyn takes an awkward seat on the couch, holding her hands together so she doesn't fidget. "So, what's the consensus?"

Elsa spares the commodore a glance, still soothing the weeping monarch in her arms. "I say send Kristoff back to deal with everything in their world and give Anna a couple of days here to decide. Even if she ultimately says no, she deserves to stay here for a while." She glances to Anna, sitting on the armrest of the chair Elsa occupied earlier. "Would you be okay tackling the council meetings and kingdom's paperwork on your own for a couple of days so I can devote my time to this Anna?" Anna's eyes soften.

"Of course."

As if she could say no, knowing Alt Anna has been living with Elsa's death on her conscience for almost four and a half years.

"She's going to have to get to know Arwyn, too, so she can make her choice." Anna adds, reluctantly. As if Alt Anna would be able to focus on anything other than her sister look-alike. Elsa nods.

"I know. We'll make time."

Anna glances over to Arwyn. Despite their differences, they can both freely admit that Alt Anna will agree to the terms just so she can see Elsa again, giving Arwyn the time she needs to win the young, redheaded queen's heart. Will it work? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it gives Arwyn a chance she never had in this reality. Maybe that's enough.

* * *

 **Bonus Scene** (Takes place a couple months after the end of the outline)

"Okay, okay." Anna says, grinning. "How about this." She clears her throat, getting ready to recite something from memory. Alt Anna and Arwyn—only here for a couple of days this time—watch in mild fascination. Arwyn munches quietly on a sandwich. Alt Anna continues adding an insane amount of sugar to her tea.

"Stop it." Elsa intercedes, hoping to stop her wife before she starts.

"There once was a beautiful woman—"

"Stop."

"With hair as white as snow—"

"Anna."

"I kissed her lips—"

"Don't."

"She shook her hips—"

" _Anna_."

"And now we're fucking!"

"Anna!" Elsa shouts, appalled.

Alt Anna spits out her tea, laughing hysterically between hacking fits. Arwyn chokes on her sandwich and slams her hand on her chest in an attempt to clear her airway. Anna grins cheekily, even though she knows Elsa's going to make her pay for it later. The platinum blond glares at her.

"Okay." Elsa says, hitting the _k_ with more force than necessary. "Then how about: There once was a stupid ass redhead, who pushed her luck too far, so I kicked her ass, threw her out like trash, and made her sleep on the goddamn couch for a month."

Anna chokes on her own spit. Alt Anna howls, holding her ribs as if afraid they'll pop off. Arwyn tries her best to cover her laughter by coughing and stuffing her face with her sandwich, but the amused crinkles around her eyes give her away.

"That's . . . damn, that's not fair." Anna says, frowning. Elsa smirks.

"I'm the queen, I don't have to be fair."

Alt Anna nods sagely. "Being a queen myself, I can fully concur with that statement."

"You are not helping!" Anna hisses. Alt Anna barks a laugh.

"I wasn't trying to!"

A soft knock on the door is the only warning they have before Moira opens the door just enough for the old wise rock, Pabbie, to roll in. Elsa raises an eyebrow. Alt Anna lets out a puff of air, knowing as well as anyone else in the room what his appearance means.

"News from my side?" She asks, not bothering to mask her distaste. It's not that she dislikes her reality—it's quite the opposite, really—but she considers traveling to this universe as her vacation. It's not every day she can catch up with her dead sibling, after all. Even if she has to see a non-related version of herself flirting with the platinum blond. She'll admit that it's weird— _really_ weird—but she's honestly missed Elsa fair too much to let it bother her.

Pabbie unrolls himself and nods. "According to your Pabbie, it has something to do with cupcakes, a pale of water, a fishing pole and a quelled revolt." His face contorts in slight confusion. "The connection was weak. He didn't have time to explain the whole story."

Alt Anna's eyebrows raise slowly. Pabbie shrugs, just as lost as the monarch. "Okay," she says, "did you get the urgency of the situation, at least?"

"Not really. I was hoping you'd come with me so you could talk to Kristoff when we establish a better connection?"

"As long as you're not making me go back." Alt Anna says, shrugging. Raising, she plants a small kiss on Arwyn's temple. "I'll be back. Save me a sandwich."

"One or two?" Arwyn asks, sliding an empty plate closer to her.

Alt Anna follows Pabbie out of the room, but she doesn't miss a beat. "Three!" She calls back.

With a silly little grin, Arwyn places three sandwiches on the plate and pushes it aside.

Anna shifts uneasily, her frown still in place from earlier. "You're not . . . you're not really going to make me sleep on the couch, are you?" She asks, her focus on the floor. Elsa puffs out a breath and wraps an arm around Anna's shoulders.

"No." She breathes. "I still can't sleep without night terrors if you're not there." Anna winces.

"Neither can I." She admits, exposing her real concern.

Arwyn winces. "Sorry." She apologizes; not for herself, but for how her kingdom's actions affected Arendelle's royal family. Anna shrugs.

"Don't worry about it." She says. "If it never happened, we never would have had the opportunity to help the universe you now reside. And that . . . that kind-of makes up for it." At Arwyn's look, Anna merely shrugs. "It's getting there."

The tense air is stifling, and Anna shifts uncomfortably. None of them like to be reminded of those cruel sixteen months.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Anna says; "Okay, I have another poem."

"I swear to the Gods, Anna, if you tell one more lewd verse about us I will punch you in the goddamn throat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s it, folks! I gave you a longer one in lieu of there being no more chapters to come. If you want to know what events I jumped over—as well as to see how I expanded each ‘paragraph’, as I put it—feel free to check out the outline in chapter two.
> 
> Cheers!


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